


perihelion (seek the stars)

by youngjo



Category: ATEEZ (Band), ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Guns & Gunshot Wounds, Heisting but Make it Gay, Hospitals, M/M, Magical Elements, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Torture, Unreliable Flashbacks, incurable illness, pov switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:47:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 40,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29435586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngjo/pseuds/youngjo
Summary: “We cannot glimpse the manner which surrounds our death, lest we destroy the flow of time, nor should we attempt to view or prevent the death of another, for their heart strengthens the future.”
Relationships: Kang Yeosang/Park Seonghwa, Past Kang Yeosang/Lee Felix, Past Park Seonghwa/Kim Hongjoong/Jeong Yunho
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. anachronism

**Author's Note:**

> heyoooo thank u for clicking this fic! so uhhhh this isn't something I usually write tbqh,, I know everyone that follows me is used to explicit pwp and nothing else, but I decided to step out of my comfort zone! this fic is marked as seonghwa/yeosang but they don't have much romantic interaction ig ?? you'll have to read to see !!
> 
> this is just magical species with a shitton of lore dumping and characters struggling to come to terms with their mistakes

Seonghwa set his empty glass upon the counter, what bit of ice that remained clinking against the sides. It was easily his seventh drink of the night, alcohol dampening his brain and making his vision swim a bit uncomfortably. While the bar hadn’t yet cut him off, his job would be far from thankful the following morning; neither would his head. He could feel the beginnings of a migraine already, white-hot needle points prickling at his eyelids. Seonghwa groaned softly.

Behind the counter, dressed in a rather sleek bartender get-up, was a dark-haired man with a little red bowtie and a raised brow. He was drying a glass, watching him with a calculating gaze, before finally shaking his head. His name was Kang Yeosang, and Seonghwa had met him a few weeks ago during his first ever visit to the upscale bar just a _ little _ too far out of his price range. Yeosang was the main bartender there, something he gathered after the fourth visit full of drunken smiles and flirtatious comments, and he did his job well.

And luckily for Seonghwa, the night was slow—he had Yeosang all to himself that evening.

“Another.”

“Already?” Yeosang sighed, reaching for a bottle. “Bad day at work? Haven’t seen you drink this bad in awhile.” His eighth gin of the night was poured, not enough for Seonghwa’s liking, but enough that he didn’t dare complain. The bar saw plenty of customers but Yeosang ha _ d commented once on how Seonghwa was the only one who drank gin without a mixer. ‘Gin is bitter and tastes how a pine tree smells! I don’t see the appeal!’ _ Yeosang had complained once, but Seonghwa enjoyed it. Gin was the only thing capable of chasing away his demons with a mouthful of burning liquid and a buzz so strong he forgot who he was for a few hours.

Seonghwa raised the topped up glass and downed it in one go, enjoying the slide down. He slammed his glass upon the counter with a little more force than he meant to and dragged a hand down his face. “Yeah. One of the guys I work with collapsed today. He’s … not doing too well.” One finger pushed the glass forward but he didn’t ask for another.

Seonghwa wouldn’t pretend he didn’t the guy. He was a trickster with a hearty laugh but his work ethic was greater than any other at Empyrean Industry. He never knew when to give up or how much was too much, working himself until his legs refused to stay upright and his hands shook from exhaustion. The intensity around him drove others to do their best as well, hoping to impress him and gain the respect of their senior coworker. 

Kim Hongjoong was an excellent man, and Seonghwa often silently expressed his thanks for befriending such a wonderful human.

Yeosang plucked his used glass from the table, immediately getting to work cleaning it up. “Did he overwork himself? I imagine it can’t be easy guarding Empyrean of all places.”

“He’s actually one of the scientists there,” Seonghwa murmured, knowing he’d said a little too much. Luckily for Yeosang, he was a little too drunk to care. Park Seonghwa worked as head of security for one of the biggest research labs in South Korea, a company under the label of Empyrean Industries. His assignment was both outside and within the science division, offering him an inside look at what went on within. It was something he was never supposed to be close to but two of his closest friends happened to work within. Yunho and Hongjoong were too valuable to lose so they pretty much did what they wanted, even if there were whispers of their terminations every other week.

Aside from the stray break-in and regular vandalism attempts, the job itself wasn’t that exciting, but Seonghwa enjoyed it nonetheless. He was damn good at it too.

“His research is on something important, something I can barely understand,” Seonghwa continued, scrubbing at his temple. “Apparently he’s really close to this breakthrough discovery or something, which unfortunately means more work for me.”

The bartender filled his now-clean glass with water and slid it back, Seonghwa understanding he was being cut off for the remainder of the night. He pulled it close but made no attempt to drink it just yet, instead focusing his attention upon Yeosang. His eyes traveled up from the other man’s red bowtie to his lips, watching the way they twitched as if knowing they were being peeked at. Seonghwa’s gaze continued, meeting Yeosang’s eyes, but the bartender appeared to be staring at some distant point. After a moment, something flickered within, but it was gone so quickly Seonghwa was sure he imagined it.

“That’s exciting,” Yeosang replied softly. “What kind of discovery?” The question sounded forced.

Seonghwa’s lack of brain cells kicked into full effect. “He’s like, really close to getting the last two pieces to a puzzle. A really big puzzle, apparently. Hongjoong finds what he needs you see, and I go fetch it—that’s my job.”

“Mm, sounds like you have quite the adventures.” Yeosang’s expression remained the same. It rarely changed and often Seonghwa struggled with understanding just what he was thinking.

With a small frown, Seonghwa finally lifted the glass of water and downed it, forgetting it wasn’t a shot. He choked a bit as it went down, launching into a coughing fit that required a few smacks to his own chest to work through. Straightening himself out, Seonghwa glanced around the bar; all that remained were two other customers and the waitstaff. 

Seonghwa plopped his elbows upon the counter and leaned forwards. “Say, Yeosang … are you free tonight?”

The bartender finished cleaning the plate he was holding and glanced at him. “That’s an empty question and you know it.”

“Kinda drunk here,” Seonghwa teased in turn, raising his glass in a mock toast.

“What am I going to do with you?” Yeosang grumbled, sliding the plate into its proper place. “I’ll be done in thirty minutes. Spare is under the mat; try not to fall down the stairs,  _ sir kinda drunk _ .”

Seonghwa saluted and slid from the barstool, slapping a few bills onto the counter; he knew Yeosang would sort through them.

And, just for the bartender’s quip, Seonghwa made it a point to trip  _ up _ the stairs at least once.

—————— xxx —————

Yeosang’s apartment was located six floors above the bar. Upscale bar, upscale apartment; made sense. Seonghwa was always a little drunk whenever he visited, so the looks of it never really took root in his mind. He did remember tan carpets and white walls though. They weren’t colors he found appealing, working at a lab and all, but it was still a nice place even so. Also, who the hell put bright purple curtains on windows with blue mosaic backsplash? They didn’t fit at all, but Seonghwa really had no room to talk, what with his Iron Man bed sheets hidden by the fancy big boy black comforter he’d bought to hide them.

Seonghwa made himself comfortable, sinking into the cream-colored couch and staring at the fake dancing flames of the fireplace embedded in the wall. He’d spent many nights on that plush piece of furniture. If he wasn’t so excited for what was to come he could’ve easily fallen asleep upon it, snoring his troubles away. 

Yeosang never did like that though.  _ My bed is big enough for both of us. If you need a place to crash, just sleep in that. _

His attention was drawn to the door as the subject of his thoughts pushed through it, the lock sliding into place. Yeosang regarded him in silence, tugging at his tie.

“Leave it on,” Seonghwa murmured and Yeosang complied without complaint, letting his hands fall back to his sides to await instruction. Seonghwa motioned for him to join him upon the couch, watching the way the corners of Yeosang’s mouth twitched and his eyelids lowered. His call was answered, Yeosang closing the gap between them with a sway in his step and fire in his eyes. He came to a halt between Seonghwa’s open legs and stared down at him, tension filling the air around their bodies.

Seonghwa raised a hand, fingers playing up Yeosang’s vest. They stopped at his tie, slipping beneath the silky fabric and wrapping it around his fingertips. He gave it a tug, Yeosang allowing himself to be pulled down to eye level. For a moment Seonghwa simply admired, eyes traveling over the smooth skin of Yeosang’s face, his long pretty lashes, and the way his throat fluttered under scrutiny. His other hand rose to cup the bartender’s cheek, caressing it gently, before he guided their lips together in a chaste kiss. It was short, barely a peck, but it was followed closely by a second. Harder, stronger, Seonghwa pouring the truth of his stress through physical touch—he’d never been that good with expressing his feelings.

Yeosang pushed back, tongue sliding into his own mouth as he worked to remap places he had known for weeks. Seonghwa was certain he tasted of alcohol, strong and bitter and just how the other man liked it. The kiss broke after a moment, Yeosang’s breathy laugh making his heart flutter.

“You taste like pine needles,” he grumbled before continuing. 

Seonghwa laughed internally, allowing Yeosang to kiss him until their lips were sloppy and their breath minute. He’d always been the better kisser, taking the lead and allowing Seonghwa to just enjoy it. Normally they were much more intense, resulting in a few lost hairs, bitten lips, and bruised hips, but not tonight. Tonight was different … and Seonghwa planned on soaking up every bit of it.

His hands finally began to wander, pulling and tugging at whatever bit of cloth he could get ahold of. Seonghwa wasn’t all that coordinated (he never was in the heat of the moment) but Yeosang still ended up in just his boxers anyway. Eyes traveling down the jut of sharp collarbones, raking over dark nipples, and finally landing upon the peek of hips, Seonghwa chuckled.

“White briefs don’t suit you.”

Yeosang snorted, rising back to full height. “At least I wear them.”

Seonghwa smirked, throwing an elbow on the armrest. “What can I say. They’re too restricting for my taste.”

The bartender just shook his head, turning so he could wander around the vast expanse of his dim apartment. Seonghwa watched him go for a moment before dragging himself from the couch, working on divesting himself of his own clothing. He kicked the heap of cloth into the corner with his foot, whatever bit of brain power he had left being diverted into the simple action of keeping himself upright. Despite the mash-up of good buzz versus migraine pains, Seonghwa accomplished the task of standing. His eyes wandered as he awaited Yeosang’s return, the latter likely searching for the bottle of lube they’d bought weeks ago.

Seonghwa realized just how pristine everything was. Not a single item was out of place, all placed with precise purpose and meticulously dusted. There were no pictures scattered about the apartment and everything was a shade of white or close to it, carefully maintained and taken care of. It was like it had never been lived in at all.

Turning around, he realized Yeosang had returned to the couch, seated neatly upon it with their necessary supplies arranged on the table. He had finished undressing elsewhere, likely his bedroom, and Seonghwa noticed the pile of clothes he’d made was gone as well; he would not be surprised if Yeosang had taken the extra time to neatly fold it all. Why Yeosang appeared to be so fussy about order was beyond him. Perhaps it came with being a bartender? Oh well, Seonghwa didn’t have time to ponder over the slightly unsettling lack of dust; there were … more  _ important _ things to deal with.

The atmosphere came rushing back, Yeosang’s tongue poking from his lips. Seonghwa took the bait, sliding into position in front of him. His fingers extended, gliding along the edge of Yeosang’s jaw. His skin was soft beneath his fingertips, the man shivering beneath his touch. He was a contrast against cool fabric, skin dark and awash with shadow. Low light only served to make Yeosang even more beautiful; it was the only time Seonghwa was ever grateful for the light color scheme around them.

Seonghwa let go, allowing his hand to fall back at his side. “You know what to do,” he murmured.

Yeosang wasted no time, hands flying up. He’d done good ignoring the prize only a step away but now that permission was granted, he was a whole different soul. Fingertips ghosting along his thighs, Yeosang met his eyes as he teased his way up, circling around his hip bones and following the strip of skin just above his shaft. His hand slid around it, gripping firm enough to make Seonghwa jump. The skin of his palm was rough from years of hard work. No matter how many times they did this, Seonghwa would likely never be prepared for it, especially not when his mind was adding the third factor of arousal into an already messy mix. Yeosang gave him a few rough jerks, eyes glinting at the soft hiss he pulled from Seonghwa’s lips.

And before he could complain about it, Yeosang moved on.

His mouth slid around him, hot and wet, and Seonghwa’s hand flew to his hair. A gentle tongue rasped at the underside of his cock. Seonghwa’s head fell back as he groaned, fingers tangling into soft strands. Yeosang sucked at his slit, managing a smirk, and continued his crusade against him. Rough and messy, Yeosang worked him over until the flimsy link between his brain and legs finally snapped. He urgently pushed at Yeosang’s head, the latter making a disgruntled noise as he was pulled free from his quarry a little too soon. Seonghwa stumbled back and lost his balance, sliding to his knees with a heavy gasp.

Yeosang took his fall as a personal victory, saliva dribbling from the corner of his wet lips and gaze heavy.

“Jesus, Yeosang, don’t look at me like that,” Seonghwa groaned.

The other man said nothing, instead crawling forward to place a gentle kiss upon his shoulder. Yeosang nipped at Seonghwa’s collarbone before nosing at his neck, resting there. His breath fanned hotly upon his skin, making him tremble and his cock twitch in anticipation of their evening. Seonghwa allowed his hands to rest upon Yeosang’s hips, breathing in the faint scent of cigarette smoke and whatever remained of his cologne. He had allowed Yeosang to have some fun, but now it was his turn.

Seonghwa slid his hand up Yeosang’s body, pinching his chin. “Spread out on the couch.”

Yeosang moved to comply without a sound. Sliding onto the cushions, he braced himself against the armrest and spread his legs open. It exposed him completely to the room, Seonghwa enjoying the little shiver that passed through his body at the touch of cold air. Seonghwa observed the way his chest fluttered, breath matching the pace of his heartbeat, and enjoyed the little drop of sweat that trickled down his brow. The shadows obscured it from him but he was certain Yeosang’s cheeks were flushed in that cute way of his.

After moments of open staring, Seonghwa cleared his throat and turned to locate the lube bottle. He snatched it up and popped the lid open, hesitating only a moment. 

“Are you ready?” Seonghwa murmured.

Yeosang gave his approval with a nod.

So Seonghwa squeezed the bottle, lip curling at the slimy feeling coating his fingers. He had never enjoyed the consistency of lube and probably never would, magic as it was and all. At least it smelled decent. Besides, if it worked for what they needed it to, then Seonghwa wouldn’t complain—never aloud at least. Slipping his fingers beneath Yeosang’s splayed thighs, he felt around his ass. The lube, still cold to the touch, made Yeosang whine uncomfortably.

“At least warm it up first, you ass!”

“Swearing already?” Seonghwa chuckled. “You’re so impolite,” he continued, wiggling a finger inside him without warning, “when it’s just us.” 

Yeosang sucked in a sharp breath, muscles fighting against Seonghwa’s fingers. On a usual night, their movements were consumed by quick kisses and rough fucking, Yeosang often left with bruised hips and sore muscles. Something felt … different that evening. Sweeter, as if something hung on the horizon and the world had narrowed to just the two of them. So Seonghwa savored it, taking as much time as his alcohol-addled mind would allow. His finger curled, pressing against soft walls and making Yeosang gasp sweetly. He placed a hand upon the other man’s stomach, massaging it gently. 

“I-I’m off the clock right now,” Yeosang managed, trembling against Seonghwa.

“Then you swear at all of your  _ off the clock _ customers?” He teased, no real weight behind his words.

His lips parted to protest but the only sound that escaped them was a moan as Seonghwa slipped a second finger inside of him. He kept his pace through it all, immediately falling back into rhythm as he worked Yeosang open with gentle practice. 

“H-hwa,” Yeosang gasped.

Seonghwa used the sound of his name for indication and curled his fingers, pressing into Yeosang’s prostate. His ploy worked, loudest keen of the night nearly shattering his ears, and he smirked. It suited him, breathy and beautiful, and Seonghwa felt lucky to be someone worth hearing it. He kept his fingers in place for a solid ten seconds, watching the way Yeosang squirmed against the cushions. By sheer willpower alone he managed to keep his legs parted, eyes screwed tightly shut and throat taut as he gasped and cried. Sweat glistened along his chest and Seonghwa felt his own swell with confidence; he was the one making Yeosang look so beautiful.

“H-hwa, please!” He begged breathlessly. 

Not feeling too mean just yet, Seonghwa pulled back. He did, however, remove his fingers at an agonizingly slow pace. Just to prove a point … and maybe tease a bit.

Seonghwa watched Yeosang curiously, ignoring his own length hanging hot and heavy between his thighs.. After a moment, the other man used the couch to roll himself to his feet. He watched as Yeosang hunted around for the discarded bottle of lube; he could almost hear the lecture that didn’t come.

“On the couch, please. Sit back,” Yeosang prompted.

Seonghwa did so, happy to be somewhere other than the floor. He sank ungracefully into soft fabric and waiting, dick twitching at the thought of Yeosang riding him. It’d been awhile since they’d been in a position like this. Yeosang liked having control as much as Seonghwa did but, surprisingly, they often left the work of riding for a sober day … and Seonghwa was rarely sober when he crawled up all those flights of stairs. His excitement was showing, eyes wide and lips slightly parted as he watched Yeosang work. A lube-slick hand wrapped around his shaft and his dislike for slimy lube was overcome by the relief of touch. Yeosang’s other hand disappeared behind himself, likely slicking himself up a final time, and Seonghwa groaned as he watched a few drops fall to the wooden floor below.

“Hurry up, Yeosang,” Seonghwa begged softly.

The other man clicked his tongue but obeyed. 

God, Seonghwa was so damn  _ spoiled. _

Knees knocked against his own as Yeosang pushed himself into position. Their cocks touched for a moment, both wincing in turn as he got situated above Seonghwa’s lap. His legs slid to press against either of his own, relying on Seonghwa’s position for extra support. Yeosang placed a hand against a bony shoulder and lined himself up, now a little bit taller in their new position. Seonghwa resisted the urge to kiss him. Instead, he felt rather than watched as Yeosang carefully aligned their bodies. He helped him along by holding his shaft steady. Yeosang guided himself down, feeling his slick tip slide along his hole in a missed first attempt. He laughed, breathy, and Seonghwa’s heart fluttered.

Then he was sucked in by hot warmth, Yeosang squeezing around the head of his cock in one quick slide. Their foreheads knocked together, Yeosang’s eyes screwed shut as he hovered there and absorbed the change. Seonghwa kept still and let him go at his own pace. Any other day, he’d take him by the hips and force him down in one fluid motion, but something within him sought to savor the moment. So he held still, breaths escaping him in heavy gasps as Yeosang clenched and unclenched his muscles around him. After a moment, Yeosang slid down a little further, whimpering, though it wasn’t from pain.

“F-fuck, Hwa …”

“That’s kind of the point,” he gasped, amused. His remark earned him a squeeze, wringing a hiss from taut lips.

Seonghwa’s hands raised, clamping onto Yeosang’s hips. He could feel every shift and twitch beneath his skin, hip bones prominent. Were they not been in the middle of sex, had Seonghwa’s mind not been clouded by alcohol and cock. he might’ve scolded him about his eating habits. But that was on the bottom of his list of important things, with the bottom in his lap being near the top actually. 

Their power exchanged hands as Yeosang became fully seated, their bodies flush as they both allowed time for adjustment. Yeosang gripped both of his shoulders, eyes still shut as he panted through the pleasure making his hips shake. After a few moments of tense silence, Yeosang finally whispered his approval. Seonghwa started slow, barely anything at all, just rocking Yeosang gently in his lap. His thrusts were gentle with no real power behind them, coaxing soft gasps and tiny whimpers from him. 

Yeosang hung his head near Seonghwa’s ear, filling them with his sweet symphony. In turn, Seonghwa pooled all of his strength to lift Yeosang halfway up and drop him back down. The first real thrust made both of them groan in unison. Their pace picked up, Seonghwa prompting him to move on his own. Yeosang did so, body going through the motions while his mind skipped further towards orgasm. 

The quiet  _ pleases _ and  _ oh gods _ whispered into the crook of his neck lit a fire inside of him. Seonghwa snaked his arms around Yeosang’s waist and locked him into place, taking over after five or so minutes. He lifted him up and allowed him to hover there for a few moments. Yeosang began to squirm, eager to grind back down, but Seonghwa punished him with a few extra seconds. Only when he decided to thrust back in did he let him drop, feeling Yeosang’s nails dig into his skin. He began to bounce Yeosang in his lap without mercy, his rhythm erratic and without measure. Yeosang’s head tipped back, cries loud and unhindered; it was a miracle no one filed a noise complaint.

Seonghwa came first, pulling Yeosang flush against his thighs and moaning deep and low. He felt himself twitch inside the man’s body, silently remarking to himself how hot that was. 

Yeosang wasn’t neglected for too long though; Seonghwa wouldn’t do that to him anyway. His hand nudged between their bodies. He fisted Yeosang’s own length and began to stroke it, gently rolling his hips as he worked him towards orgasm. Rarely, if ever, did they climax at the same time, but it did happen—just not that night. 

After a moment, Yeosang knocked Seonghwa’s hand away. He reluctantly let go and allowed him to take over the effort, Seonghwa watching as he began to jerk himself off and bounce upon what remained of his hardness. Seonghwa aided in his own way, reaching up to pinch and play with one dusky nipple and then the other. Their lips met moments later, Seonghwa kissing the air from his lungs. 

It took nearly another five minutes of effort for Yeosang to finally come, squeezing Seonghwa tight enough to make him groan in pain. Yeosang collapsed against his chest a few moments later, panting into his neck. Seonghwa draped an arm across his back and tugged him closer.

“You’re beautiful, Yeosang,” he murmured, but his words fell upon deaf ears; Yeosang had already succumbed to exhaustion. He smiled slightly, just a faint curl of lips, and prepared to untangle their bodies. “I love you.”

—————— xxx —————

Seonghwa was jolted awake by the sound of his phone ringing, the shrill tone matching the pain in the back of his skull. 

He stumbled blindly out of bed, body completely on autopilot, and crawled to the source of light and sound in the far corner of the room. The identification read ‘Work’ and Seonghwa scrambled to answer, forcing down the yawn threatening to claw its way out of his throat. Seonghwa hurried out of Yeosang’s bedroom and tangled a hand in his hair, rubbing at his aching head.

“It’s almost four in the morning. This better be important,” he grumbled. Even if it were a breach of security, he was off for the night, and Empyrean had more guards than they knew what to do with; they could handle it without him.

< Hwa, it’s me, Yunho. I need you back at work immediately. >

He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I still have a buzz, Yun. There’s no way I can drive.”

< You were drinking  _ again? _ > Yunho exclaimed; he wasn’t given a chance to reply. < Nevermind, it’s not important. What  _ is _ important is you arriving here. Take a cab if you need to. > There was a great, exhausted sigh. < We have a … situation. >

That knocked him into reality. “Is it … is it Hongjoong?”

< He’s fine, don’t worry. But we’ve made a discovery, and I need you here. > The man on the other end of the line hesitated for a moment. When he finally dared speak again, his voice was soft, barely above a whisper. < I deciphered the name of our target. >

Adrenaline surged through him and Seonghwa swallowed. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Seonghwa ended the call and allowed his arm to drop against his leg. He inhaled, staring at the dim ceiling of Yeosang’s apartment. This was the moment they’d been waiting for. Years upon years of research, sleepless nights, and things Seonghwa would rather not relive were finally going to pay off. 

Without wasting another second, he rushed back into Yeosang’s room and began to gather up his clothes. Yeosang was sitting up in bed at that point, likely awoken by his movements. Those dark eyes were affixed upon him, expression unreadable; Seonghwa could not explain the sudden injection of fear in his veins. 

“Something came up at work; I’ve gotta run,” he explained, shoving a leg into his pants.

Yeosang didn’t answer at first, just watching him in grim silence. He couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or otherwise. “Was there a security breach?”

Seonghwa fought with his shirt, missing the right arm hole twice. “... Kinda,” he lied. “I can’t really share the details. “You’re not mad, right?”

“Of course not,” he laughed back, but the sound was hollow. “Work is work, I get it.”

“Rain check?” Seonghwa asked, throwing on his hoodie and shoving his phone into his pocket. 

“Yeah, sure. Breakfast in bed next time,” Yeosang murmured, pointing at a dark square on the floor.

He scooped up his wallet and stuck it in his back pocket. Seonghwa crossed the room and leaned down, placing a chaste kiss to Yeosang’s forehead. Yeosang trembled beneath the touch but Seonghwa didn’t have time to ask questions.

“Breakfast in bed next time,” he repeated. “I’ll call you later, okay?” Seonghwa didn’t move back until he received a nod of approval, dashing out the door as he made a quick call to the nearest cab service.

—————— xxx —————

As soon as Seonghwa rounded the corner down the hall, Yeosang slid the lock into place behind him and sagged against the door. His mind was a jumbled mess of sounds and images, eyes wide and wild with a heartbeat to match. He clutched at his wrist, hissing as a bright blue light exploded beneath the skin. It grew brighter before something split through, Yeosang’s arm trembling as it rose up from its hiding place. Only when it was fully exposed did the glow die down, leaving him to catch his breath in thick silence.

Knowing he was wasting time, Yeosang pushed free from the door and began to hurry around his apartment. He quickly got dressed and then immediately threw himself into gathering what little belongings he had. Clothes, toiletries, and travel supplies; not a single personal item. All of it fit into a single backpack and his heart sank. 

Slipping a black sweatband around the blue stone in his wrist, Yeosang paused to drink in the sight of the place he’d called home for the last four years. He was used to this, to living on the run, but it had been a long time since he’d had to worry—and this time was different. 

Yeosang wrote a hasty note and tossed it upon the table, feeling a prickle of sadness, but remained expressionless. He stole a final glance at the couch they’d occupied only a few hours earlier, knowing deep down that he would likely never see it again. After a moment, Yeosang turned and stepped through the door, allowing it to swing shut behind him.

For the first time in years, the shadows within were cold.

—————— xxx —————

Seonghwa had never been more impatient for a car ride to be over. By the time he arrived, his buzz was completely gone. His migraine was in full swing but he persevered through the pain; his current goal was more important. The gate guard waved him through without question, Seonghwa hurrying up the steps and tearing the door to the building open. His footsteps echoed through Empyrean’s massive waiting room but one would not fault him for his hurry.

This was it. The moment they had, and by they he meant mainly Empyrean as a whole, been waiting for. Fifty years of struggling, of dead ends, of broken leads, of bad intel, had led up to this moment. Seonghwa had only been employed by Empyrean for five of those fifty years, but Hongjoong and Yunho had been part of it for nearly eight. They were instrumental in major breakthroughs and discoveries that led them to where they were now, spending countless nights full of restless movement and minimal sleep to get there. 

The lab likely wouldn’t still be standing without them.

The whole place was abuzz with activity by the time he arrived. Scientists and assistants rushed around the large room with little care for his presence. With no one to wave him through, Seonghwa went on his own, ducking into the main experimentation room. He found Yunho within, hunched over a projection emitted from the holotable. His attention was absolute, eyes traveling over a map of a land Seonghwa did not recognize. 

Yunho scrubbed at his brow with a sigh.

“Yun, you look tired.”

The scientist grew more lively, ignoring Seonghwa’s comment. Seonghwa noticed the old journal clasped in his opposite hand, latex glove a stark contrast. At one point the leather book had been a bright red but years of time and usage had worn it down into the faded mockery it now sat in. The pages inside had long since yellowed, wearing out their welcome in the grand scheme of time. He could see the thin strips of sticky notes poking out through both the top and bottom; products of Yunho and Hongjoong’s hard work.

“Hwa … I did it. I finally did it,” he whispered. “I finally decoded their name.”

As much as Seonghwa enjoyed Yunho’s excitement, he couldn’t get around the dark bags under his eyes or the way his stance swayed ever so slightly. He hadn’t slept again. Seonghwa closed the gap between them, glancing down at the holotable. 

“Just a name? Or is there more?” He questioned, itching to know. Unfortunately Yunho had a thing for dramatic reveals so he knew he’d be waiting a moment longer than he would’ve liked.

“There’s more, there’s more,” Yunho began. “As we all know, there are not four of them, but five. Their leader, if you can even call them that. A powerful soul with more magical energy than the four others combined.” He paused, motioning for Seonghwa to follow. “I’ve been going at this page for nearly three years. It wasn’t easy, and there are still some translation errors, but I finally managed it.” 

Yunho led him around the table before stopping abruptly. Seonghwa stuttered to a halt, following a point finger to the holotable. It had been divided down the middle, showcasing two very different landscapes. “From what I understand, the book details ancient empires and amazing nations, like the Ottoman Empire and even some of the Chinese Dynasties. At first, I was confused on how they were all related until I managed to decode more.” The projection changed, showing a generic faceless mockery of a king in the center. Beside him was a red dot. Apparently Yunho had put … quite the bit of effort into his little presentation as well. “They were all guided by these people. Their ability to see and predict the future helped determine the best outcome of battles and strategic planning. That likely explains why so many of these great empires ended up falling into decline. Without a Seeker to glance into their future, they could no longer rule with the element of surprise.” Yunho’s eyes were lit up in wonder. Seonghwa had to admit, it was pretty cool stuff, but he was feeling the effects of his impatience. 

“This journal was written nearly three hundred years ago, Hwa,” he continued. “And it details a society of Seekers, closer to the hundreds. They weren’t limited to just five. All over the world, living regular everyday lives, being people just like us … I haven’t gotten far enough to know exactly what caused their decline but it must’ve been awful.” Yunho’s hand appeared to move on its own, sliding through the hologram to clasp tightly around the red dot; it only served to project it upon the back of his hand instead. “How lonely that must’ve been, watching your friends and family succumb to something you couldn’t explain.”

_ We know what that feels like,  _ Seonghwa thought solemnly, glancing towards the medical ward.

The people Yunho was referring to were no mere humans. Born with the unique ability to peer into the future, they were a magical race only a handful of people had ever been lucky enough to know existed—Seekers. Through years of endless research, Empyrean had discovered that trained Seekers could control a specific focus via stones embedded in their flesh upon birth. They had learned the hard way that stones could not be removed from their host, nor could a human touch a stone removed by the Seeker themselves. They were needed alive and breathing to have any value at all, resulting in Seonghwa being trained for his expert experience as a bounty hunter in the military. He had already tracked and captured three of them.

Through their failures, they learned of the Seekers ability to reincarnate. Not their souls, but a power via the stones. Their essence would transfer to a new host, likely a baby moments away from being born, and manifest in their core. Very rarely did an untrained Seeker survive past the age of fourteen. Some were killed by their villages who deemed them monsters. Most, however, could not survive the pain of their power manifesting for the first time. Seekers were elusive creatures.

Despite all of those abilities, none of them were the reason Empyrean had spent so long hunting them down. There was something else, something much more mythical that they were after. Yunho had nicknamed it the Door despite Hongjoong’s protests; it stuck. It was a gateway to the heavens, a legend from storybooks, detailing a bridge into the afterlife. From fifty years worth of translating the old journal in Yunho’s hands, they were able to understand that passing through and returning in one piece granted a human eternal life.

For Empyrean, they sought immorality.

For Yunho and Seonghwa, they sought a way to heal Hongjoong of his illness.

Thus, Hongjoong had been chosen as the first experiment, should they ever find the mythical gateway in his lifetime—and Yunho and Seonghwa would do  _ anything _ to find it.

“I know it’s likely a longshot, and it could very well be an alias, but their name is …”

—————— xxx —————

By the time Yeosang reached his destination, it had begun to rain.

His clothes were soaked through, hair wet and steps wobbling. It consumed all the effort he had left to reach up and knock on the large wooden door in front of him. He was met with nothing but the backdrop of rain on pavement and for a moment, Yeosang feared no one would answer. The rain continued battering his poor frame but Yeosang paid it no attention, ears straining forward.

At last the door creaked and a small bell chimed as it popped open.

The smell of fresh cinnamon wafted out towards him, followed swiftly by dusty books and old pages. Then, a hum. “... I have to admit, I didn’t expect to see you back on my doorstep so quickly.” The voice was smooth and even; it matched the person it belonged to perfectly.

“The time has come, old friend,” Yeosang managed, coughing as he fought to catch his breath.

The man hidden behind the door sighed softly. “I know. I can see the future with crystal clarity nowadays.”

“Then you know they deciphered more.”

There was a moment of pause, the sound of the rain growing deafening. “It won’t be much longer now, Yeosang. War is on the horizon, whether it’s just the two of us or all of us.” The door swung open, revealing a dark-haired man with a scar over his nose. Time had healed the wound but one could still see the pain if they looked hard enough. “You cannot run this time. It’s time to become the leader you were created to be.”

“I know.” Yeosang met his gaze, a fire burning within his eyes, and yanked the sweatband covering his wrist off; the blue gem glittered despite the darkness. “I’m ready.” 

—————— xxx —————

“... Sang. Their name is Sang.” 

Seonghwa felt his veins run cold.

His only thought was  _ shit. _


	2. sisyphean

Yeosang stared unblinkingly through the window, the storm still raging outside. He watched it splash unbiased in the pale yellow of a distant streetlight, his raging heartbeat growing calmer the more time stretched on. His body was still but his mind was racing and the longer he sat there, the more the void in his stomach grew.

He had always wondered what a “normal” life may have been like. The stone embedded in his wrist was both a blessing and a curse. Yeosang could no longer remember when or where he had been born. The many lifetimes he’d existed through often blended together, muddling his memories and forcing him to use more of his power each time he attempted to reach back. An exchange of sorts, losing parts of himself for a chance to pull on the memories and experiences of others.

The stone of wisdom, bright and blue, had manifested itself in his wrist the day of his tenth birthday. Through it, he had been catapulted into a world of secrets and lies. There were others before him, old as time itself with bodies clinging to what life remained. But he was the first to have ever been blessed with wisdom. It was the mark of a leader, of the one meant to guide them, and Yeosang went from a nobody to the most important Seeker in history. From there, he was forced into hiding, and grew up with people who only knew how to respect him—never to love. By the time he turned twenty-five, at which point his ability to age ground to a halt, Yeosang had gone through more name changes than the world’s most prolific spy. 

His ability to lead, to make choices, had been a learned skill. Yeosang wasn’t meant to have power. At least, that’s what he told himself in the beginning. Over time though, he grew into it. Grew used to running, to being the source of motivation, and through his leadership the Seekers found their place in the world. There were more of them in the past, too many to keep track of, with multiples adopting the same set of sixteen stones. Yeosang chose where they lived, what they did for a living, whether they should be involved in the lives of regular humans. He became a beacon of hope, the promise of a better life, a sanctuary for those like himself where they could live without fear of persecution.

Then one day it all …

Yeosang shook his head, chasing away the bad memories. Not a night went by where he didn’t think of that day. It had been a long time since Yeosang had allowed himself to return to as normal of a life as he allowed himself. To find a job, to exist as humans did, where he could meet others and once again be in a place of normalcy. 

Falling in love hadn’t been part of that plan but when was it ever?

He had always been careful. He covered his tracks well, never kept any personal belongings, and never went out of his way to leave an impression. Never meddling in the lives of humans again had been his absolute rule. Don’t help, don’t assist, don’t try to change fate, and most importantly, don’t fall in love. 

But Yeosang had broken that last one. Seonghwa was different. He had always been different.

Seonghwa made him feel like life was worth living again.

“You’ll get wrinkles if you keep making that face.”

His head tilted back, eyes sliding over to spot his host. Youngjo was standing a few steps away, arms crossed and expression calm. He had always been that way, gaze clear and judgement unclouded. On the surface, he appeared to be nothing more than a pretty face, all smiles and laughter and bolstered confidence, Youngjo loved harder than most and cared far more than history had given him credit for. Anyone who truly knew him understood that Youngjo threw one hundred percent of his effort into everything—and Yeosang had known him for a very long time.

“Wrinkles are the least of my worries, Youngjo.”

Youngjo fully entered the room without invitation. Not that he needed one, considering it was his house and all. He sank into one of the chairs, lifting a cup of coffee Yeosang hadn’t noticed before and took a sip.

“They should be your  _ only _ worry,” he murmured after a moment.

Yeosang smiled weakly, running his fingers over his stone. “Our world doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid.”

Their world was fight or flight, with the promise of restless sleep and death in every shadow. Power in exchange for safety; it was a cruel choice they never got a say in.

Youngjo joined him in peering out the window, the pair listening to the rain patter faintly against the glass. He took another sip of his coffee, Yeosang keeping part of his attention focused upon him. This was the first time they had seen each other in person in nearly twenty years. Youngjo looked weary, his shoulders heavy with burdens from their past. His eyes carried knowledge of the lifetimes they’d both lived through and though Youngjo had reached his point of immortality, it took more than time to erase wounds; Yeosang knew he still carried far more guilt than he would ever admit.

Aside from Yeosang, Youngjo was the last remaining Seeker from an era long forgotten. He was the second oldest still living, barely two hundred years younger than Yeosang himself. He had witnessed his fair share of wars, death, famine, and atrocity. 

“They have three of them already, Yeosang. We’re the only two left.”

Yeosang stared down into his hands, eyes tracing the cracked insides of his palms. After a moment, he sighed. “We knew this would happen eventually; you can only outrun your demons for so long.” Pushing off the windowsill, Yeosang rose. He extended a hand in Youngjo’s direction, expression calm. A blue glow rose from the stone in his wrist, curling up and around his hand, weaving between his fingers and sparkling in the darkness of the room. “I am asking you to stand with me on this, Youngjo. No more running away. No more hiding. We must break them free, and we must change things.”

Youngjo set his cup upon a nearby table and rose as well, his eyes reflecting the glow of Yeosang’s energy. 

“I won’t sugarcoat things; I never have. This could very well be the last time we adventure together, and I won’t fault you for choosin—”

“Save it,” Youngjo cut him off. His smile was gentle. “You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world. If this is truly the end, then I’ll be right there with you.” He thrust his own hand out, tendrils of white light coiling around his palm. Yeosang accepted it and the colors melted together, coiling in a ball of flame that consumed their connected hands. It grew brighter before exploding in a burst of sparkling light, sealing their resolve in a share of power to bolster each of them for the hardships ahead.

Yeosang stepped away, rubbing at his wrist as the last dregs of energy fizzled out. “Now then, a plan. What do you know?”

Youngjo motioned for him to follow. He was led into the kitchen, where a door masked as fancy wall decor was swung open. It revealed a staircase. Yeosang eyed it warily but followed Youngjo anyway, closing the door behind him and following him into the dimly lit basement. Downstairs was like entering a whole other world. There were books and papers stacked in every direction, filing cabinets overflowing with various materials shoved precariously into every corner. 

“I thought we agreed on no physical items,” Yeosang murmured, glancing around the room.

“We did,” Youngjo replied. The other Seeker deposited a book and a large roll of paper onto a table against the far wall. “Everything you see in here is a decoy. You know, just in case anyone came snooping. It’s just wasted paper.”

Yeosang came to join him, peering at the items before him. “And what are these?”

“You’re not the only one who keeps a journal, but that’s not important.” Youngjo shoved it to the corner and Yeosang just shook his head. He grabbed the paper and unrolled it, using a book placed on either side to keep it open. “Pulled a string or two and managed to snatc—”

“Empyrean’s blueprints,” Yeosang finished.

“Well that stole my thunder,” Youngjo chuckled. “Yes, blueprints. I haven’t had time to really pour over them yet but I’ve been keeping an eye on Empyrean for awhile.”

Yeosang’s heart squeezed; Youngjo would make a fine leader one day. “When did you realize they were close? And why didn’t you contact me sooner?”

Youngjo’s face grew thoughtful. “Three years ago.” Their eyes met, Yeosang wishing he could ignore the knowing look in his eyes. “You know we all came here at the same time, Yeosang. Something called us here, something we still don’t understand.” He sighed then, flattening his palm over the drawn doorway of Empyrean’s largest laboratory. “I hadn’t forgiven you yet. Honestly, I’m surprised you even showed up here after … after that day.”

“I am still sorry, Youngjo. You know I would do anything to change it if I had the chance,” he whispered, averting his gaze.

“I know, I know. Let’s … not discuss it further.” Youngjo took a moment to collect himself, the silence heavy, before continuing. “One of them was in pain, that’s how I knew. Something about that place dims their power—makes them weaker. But it was enough of a lapse that I realized they had more than one.”

“Gods … how long have they been in there?”

“Only a few months, thank the stars,” Youngjo replied. He swept his hand across the blueprint, focusing his attention upon it. “Once I find a way in, we can devise a rescue plan and go from there.”

“We should’ve tried sooner,” Yeosang said, voice barely above a whisper. He covered his face, leaning against the table for support. “When did we become so passive, so uncaring? Leaving the cycle to just repeat itself, leaving one of our own to suffer until their death … how are we better? We don’t even know their  _ names! _ ” Yeosang couldn’t say when fellow Seekers had gone from names and faces to the fire of their stone in his mind. It was easier to pretend that way, easier to let go when they inevitably fizzled out and the cycle chose another. 

_ No more, _ he thought fiercely.  _ No more! _

Youngjo placed a hand upon his shoulder. “I know, Yeosang, I know. But this … this is our chance to make things right.”

“You’re right.” Yeosang pulled away, stepping back towards the stairs. “I’ll need a day or two to gather some supplies. You find a way to get inside and we’ll discuss where to go i—once we get out.”

“You’re talking to the Seeker of Light, remember? I’ll find a way inside,” Youngjo replied.

After a moment, Yeosang nodded. “We’ll communicate through our stones if needed. I’ll be back in a few hours.” 

A hand grasped his wrist right as he was about to take a step, however, stopping him in his tracks. Yeosang paused, looking back upon Youngjo’s face. His eyes were soft, expression solemn.

“I have a few questions before you disappear into the night,” Youngjo said.

Yeosang inwardly sighed. He had known this was coming but that didn’t make it any easier. “Go ahead.”

Youngjo actually sighed, letting go of his wrist; he knew Yeosang wouldn’t run. “I can see the future just as you can, Yeosang. Even I knew we would one day end up here. His name is Park Seonghwa, yes? Surely you knew he was working for them.”

Ah … there it was. The Seeker diverted his gaze but chose not to answer.

“You went down a path of self destruction again didn’t you.” It wasn’t even a question; just a statement with more weight behind it than Yeosang felt like supporting at that moment.

Yeosang laughed bitterly, raising a hand to trace a knot in the basement’s wooden wall. Outside the wind continued to howl, growing stronger as the world began its inevitable shift to day. The clouds continued to cry and his heart clenched in pain.

“Sometimes it’s the only thing you’re worthy of feeling.”

—————— xxx —————

He wasn’t surprised to find the apartment empty.

Still, he entered with caution, hand upon the gun at his hip. Seonghwa had no desire to shoot Yeosang but he would if the man—no, the  _ Seeke _ r, didn’t agree to come quietly. He had a job to do, regardless of what had happened in that very apartment barely three hours earlier.

Knowing he wouldn’t find Yeosang inside, he began his investigation. Seonghwa flicked on the lights, getting a true view of the space he’d only ever been in drunk before. Yeosang had left in a hurry. The living room rug was askew, one of the lamps lying on the floor. In the kitchen, a few crackers had been scattered upon the tiles and a bottle of fragrant spice lay shattered. His escape into the dawn had been swift but messy.

He found the note on the counter only seconds later.  _ I’m so sorry, Seonghwa. _ Grunting softly, he crumpled the paper within his palm and tossed it into the garbage.

Seonghwa’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the empty counter. There were so many questions swimming around in his mind. If Yeosang was capable of seeing the future, if he could truly glimpse into time not yet reached, why had he stayed with Seonghwa? Surely it had been no secret he would one day catch him. Or maybe he didn’t.

He shook the thoughts away, fists curling. “No, I  _ have _ to catch him. I can’t fail.”

It just … made no sense that Yeosang would just allow this to happen, allow them to … to fall in—Seonghwa clipped that thought too. He pushed through the stab of pain in his chest and continued about his investigation.

He was certain Yeosang had taken everything of a personal nature with him. Any books, journals, or artifacts were likely long gone. That didn’t stop him from scouring every little corner of the apartment. Suddenly he understood why the bartender had always been so obsessed with order, why he never invited Seonghwa up with a clear mind. His investigation lasted close to forty minutes as he rifled through everything; he even upended the couch and checked the mattress for any secret pockets. 

For the other Seekers, they had been lucky. Two of them had been caught before their powers truly manifested, allowing him the rare element of surprise. The third had been caught via his surveillance tactics. He wasn’t sure how the whole future sight thing worked, or if the ones they’d caught just weren’t sure how to control their powers yet, but it was almost too easy—something that came back to bite them with the search for the last two.

Seonghwa had never expected it to be Yeosang though.

Seeker or not, he had often set up hidden cameras to track someone’s movements and wait for their return. But if Yeosang truly was a Seeker, there would be no way he’d ever step foot in or even around that apartment again; he couldn’t have stayed on the run for long without taking precautions.

Seonghwa allowed the door to click shut for a final time. He stood there in silence for a few moments, tracing the grooves in the wood. After a moment, he sighed, knowing he couldn’t let this stop him. A quick trip to the bar downstairs revealed that Yeosang that someone had spotted him leaving. They were unsure which direction he’d run off in though, putting him back to square one.

Hunting down Yeosang was something he never thought he’d be doing and Seonghwa had to ignore the little voice screaming  _ this is wrong! _ in the back of his mind.

_ This is for Hongjoong, _ he reminded himself.  _ It has and always will be for Hongjoong. _

That did nothing to appease the guilt simmering within him.

—————— xxx —————

The room they were in had no windows, allowing time to blend together and leaving them to feel more disoriented the longer they were kept within. 

Wooyoung couldn’t tell one day from the next. He just knew that he awoke to grey walls and fell asleep to grey walls. Sometimes there was food waiting, sometimes he was granted requests for books. But most of the time he was ignored. The first few days, he yelled and yelled, demanding to be let out. Banged on the doors, begging for someone to listen to him, but he was always met with silence. Only when his body was tired and weak, throat raw and hands aching, did someone finally answer.

The scientist, a relatively tall man who introduced himself as Dr. Jeong Yunho, attempted to converse with him. He ignored every question and instead asked his own:  _ why am I here? Where am I? What is this place? _

And, when those failed:  _ I want to go home! Let me out! _

Yunho grew tired of him quickly. Eventually, he quit asking questions at all. His routine switched to daily checks, likely his weight, his emotional state, things like that … or something. Wooyoung really didn’t know but he also lacked the energy to care.

He was the first, but it didn’t take long for there to be more. San came first, shoved into the cell across the way. The boy was skinny and weak, likely plucked from the streets, but he had spirit. His will to survive was powerful and Wooyoung was certain he yelled far longer and much louder than he ever had. Over time, they came to realize they were the same. Strange stones in their wrists, powers they couldn’t control, and headaches revealing events in the near future.

Yunho called them Seekers.

The third joined them six months later, dragged in with a muzzle over his mouth and fire in his veins. He kicked and thrashed until the end, shoved into the cage in the far right. His name was Mingi and his eyes glowed red with anger, flames erupting from beneath his feet as he yelled his displeasure to the whole compound. Yunho and a team of scientists installed something then. The first time Mingi attempted to use his power afterwards, a glow erupted around the bars of his cage and his screams jolted Wooyoung from deep slumber; they had not witnessed his strong fire since. 

San tried next. His ability allowed him to manifest and control lightning. It too failed, resulting in the purple glow that canceled out his power swiftly.

Wooyoung, knowing it was likely to happen to him as well, still tried; he had to know for certain. He had always been a natural with plant life, capable of reviving dead grasses and accelerating flowers into bloom. Now there was only pain, overloading the stone in his wrist and burning him from his core. The poor man writhed upon the ground, his skin burning so hotly he wished he could claw the damn stone out himself. It didn’t last forever, just three seconds in reality, but Wooyoung knew he would feel the echoes of that moment for as long as he breathed. 

Despite all of that, they never admitted defeat. They just learned not to use their powers, leaving them to conversation and whatever Yunho’s organization, “Empyrean,” felt like giving them. 

It was a sad, lonely life even with San and Mingi to pass the time.

Today followed the usual routine, Yunho standing just beyond the bars of his cage. His pen tapped against the clipboard he was holding, the sound echoing around the room in an annoying monotone. 

“Will you quit that tapping?” Wooyoung muttered.

Inquisitive eyes were turned his way. Yunho quit, instead sliding the pen into the clip. “My, my, I was beginning to wonder if you forgot how to speak.”

Wooyoung crossed his arms with a huff. “It’s not a big deal.” His gaze flickered between Yunho’s face and the tiny room he had been living in. The walls were white and bland, an uncomfortable bed protruding from the wall. A shelf above it contained a stack of books and a few little trinkets like a rubix cube and a deck of playing cards. A door in the back led to a tiny restroom, offering just enough space for showers and a toilet. This place wasn’t home.

“Why do you ignore me when I ask you questions?”

His attention snapped back to Yunho. “Are you serious?” He hissed. “You snatch me from my home in the dead of night, throw me in a cage like some wild animal, and have the  _ audacity _ to ask me why I refuse to answer?” 

Yunho pulled the pen free and scribbled something onto his clipboard. “Locking you up wasn’t our intention; we just needed to be sure you wouldn’t run.”

Wooyoung didn’t bother gracing him with an answer.

“We’re just … trying to make all of this work in a way that benefits everyone.”

“What is there to ‘make work?’ It doesn’t take a genius to understand that we’re in a fancy lab because of these stupid stones! Yet you stand out there with a little microscope and the ability to see your family whenever you want!” Wooyoung spat.

Yunho sighed in response, lowering the clipboard. “This project is for a good cause, I promise. To study you, the Seekers, and better understand you.”

Wooyoung’s eyes glowed with anger. “All of which could’ve been done outside of a fucking cage.”

“Like I said, a precaution,” Yunho replied. “All of you will be out of here before you know it.”

“I’ve glimpsed ahead,” he said, voice low and dark. “Don’t think you can fool me.”

Yunho snorted, taking a step towards the exit. “These bars were altered to prohibit use of your powers. You have no idea what’s coming.”

Wooyoung was left in that room of white, stomach rolling with uncertainty as he watched Yunho leave. His eyes traveled between San and Mingi, heart racing in his chest.

For the first time in his life, Wooyoung was afraid of the future.

—————— xxx —————

_ It’s for Hongjoong, it’s for Hongjoong, it’s for  _ Hongjoong!

That’s all Yunho could repeat as he traversed the halls, heart thumping rapidly in his chest. When Yunho had received a job offering from Empyrean Industries, he had jumped at the chance. They had always been a secretive company, both the tagline and CEO citing “advances in technology to better the lives of people everywhere.” But Yunho had never expected to be pulled into the web of a supernatural underworld. He went from a normal human with a relatively normal job to one half of an authority on an ancient species. 

Empyrean was, in truth, a front. Run by a billionaire obsessed with her quest for immortality. Started by her grandfather, carried on by her father, and now bestowed upon the daughter. Yunho had never met her but he knew that with each death the reach for eternal life had only grown stronger. 

His surprise only grew when he met more of the team. Kim Hongjoong, a genius from the same college he had gone to. Slightly older, a little more mature, with a laugh that stopped him in his tracks. They had more in common than either expected, quickly becoming friends that spent even the off hours together. Park Seonghwa came two months later, completing the trio. Their status as coworkers was the important thing but it was hard not to connect on a more personal level.

At first, it was easy to detach himself from the goal. All they had was a vaguely translated book and no faces to go with the people they were “hunting.” They were in the research stage, he told himself, taking their time in deciphering the journal. Then Yunho, wading through his trial phase, was finally granted access to the whole of the archives.

He met them with excitement in the beginning. Finally he would be able to learn more, to see the faces of the beings, the elusive Seekers. But Yunho could think of nothing worse than what he found in those files and suddenly he understood why Empyrean vetted them so extensively.

_ ‘LOG 0000: ACQUISITION OF THE FIRST SEEKER. Captured in the streets of Miami, displaying incredible strength and agility. Name unknown. Stone is pink but there have been no further displays of power. We will begin information extraction in the coming weeks.’ _

The first Seeker had been found forty years prior. The video was black and white, grainy, barely showing their face, but it didn’t take a genius to understand the scientists before him were attempting to torture information out of them. Flashes of light were all the indication Yunho needed; he didn’t know if he would’ve been able to stomach it had there been sound. 

_ ‘LOG 0035: STONE REMOVAL. Seeker continues to be uncooperative. Won’t share name, won’t share power. Attempts at negotiation have fallen flat. Stone removal attempt will begin now.’  _ A line break had been inserted. _ ‘Logs for pink stone are now closed.’ _

The next video showed the same Seeker, arms and legs tied to a chair. Someone on screen presented a set of pliers and Yunho felt his feet run cold. He didn’t have to hear the screams to know they were agonizing, watching the nameless figure pry the stone embedded in their wrist out. The moment it left its resting place, a brilliant explosion of light consumed the screen. When it faded, the Seeker had slumped over and the stone was gone.

_ ‘LOG 0038: ACQUISITION OF THE ORANGE STONE. Proof of variation with our newest Seeker. Willingly gave up name but knows nothing of their status. Did not even know they were a Seeker.’ _

The third video was short. A new location had been picked, a smaller room with a bed and other small things. They had planned to keep this Seeker for a little longer, likely learning from their first mistake, but Yunho could see the logs for the mysterious ‘orange stone’ ended only four videos later. He had booted that one up with a heavy hand.

_ ‘LOG 0042: STONE REMOVAL ATTEMPT TWO. Seeker appears unhappy with their status. Is willing to work with us on, as they put it, a “return to a normal life.”’ _

It opened up to the room, the Seeker seated upon their bed. Audio accompanied this time, shrill and with a ringing tone. The Seeker was instructed to attempt to remove their stone. They grunted in pain, fingers digging into their wrist. A glow kicked up around it, making them cry out in surprise, but they saw it through. The stone detached from their skin without the same explosive glow as before, the Seeker holding it in an outstretched palm. 

A scientist reached out and plucked it from the Seeker’s hand. Orange light began to burst from it, startling everyone in the room, before it shattered into a cloud of dust. The Seeker on the bed slid onto the floor, body still.

Seekers could remove their stones but humans could not touch them.

There was a large gap between logs with Seekers following that. Yunho had watched through them anyway, listening to the presentations and updates. The death of the orange Seeker appeared to have affected the crew deeply. It showed in their faces and Yunho could tell they had sympathized with him. They had befriended their prisoner.

They could not remove stones themselves. Humans could not touch the stones. Each stone had its own unique power. Stones only manifested once a Seeker reached the age of sixteen. Seekers could be born to human parents. They could sense each other at any given time but they knew no more than that. There were five at any given time. 

It was plenty of information, but none of it was helpful towards their ultimate goal; to achieve immortality.

_ ‘LOG 0067: THE DOOR.’  _

There was no tagline with the entry, no explanation, and Yunho had considered leaving it at first. It was a scientist, Yunho recognizing him as the lead with the orange Seeker. He was speaking to the camera, features tired.

_ “We uh … we caught our third Seeker, right in the middle of displaying their power. Capable of leveling an entire building … just like it was nothing. We have taken them into custody. They appeared to be suffering from memory loss, possessing nothing but a book in their hands. They claimed their mind was running wild with visions, unable to control where to look or even what realm to glimpse in. It-it’s incredible honestly. Not only are they capable of viewing the future, but they can see other dimensions? Just … so many possibilities!” _

_ “This book … it’s in some kind of code. We wrote down some of this Seeker’s rambling and understand that it’s a way of deciphering it but it’ll make time. But he just … he kept going on about something called the Door. The Door, the Door, the Door. Over and over again, until it was all he could repeat. He ripped off his stone and started shouting and-and there was this amazing glow, like nothing we’d ever seen before!” _

_ “It shimmered into view in front of us. Bright and big, with two slots on either side. The last sat in the top center, each created to house what we assume are the stones on their wrists. The Seeker placed it within one of the pedestals and just … we all felt it. A pull, like it wanted us to enter. Could this be a piece of the puzzle …?” _

Yunho understood after that, why the Seekers went so willingly in the beginning. They had been without proper guidance for years. They were born extraordinary, with powers beyond their comprehension. They were people who didn’t even know what they were called, wrists burning with the manifestation of a stone that caused more than a few rifts in their lives. Empyrean Industries offered a way out, a chance to get back to a “normal life,” but that was a lie. They could not remove the stones and they could not exist outside of their Seeker for longer than ten minutes. But instead of giving them proper freedom in exchange for cooperation, they were locked in a cage and kept under tight surveillance. 

Finishing those videos, Yunho wanted out. He wanted to cut ties and run far, far away—he never made it that far, all because of …

“I heard you translated a little more.”

Yunho snapped out of his stupor and glanced around. Lost in his thoughts, he had allowed his body to go into autopilot and guide him. It led him back to the place he was in the most outside of the lab; the medical wing. His shoulders drooped as he crashed back into reality.

“Hey, Hongjoong,” he breathed. “You’re out of bed.” 

Hongjoong was using his IV stand for support, the white gown he had been forced to endure making him look way too small. Yet, even with all the odds stacked against him, he was smiling.

“I felt well enough to stand today,” he replied, his dark hair hanging limply against his ears. It had been a long time since Hongjoong had taken proper care of himself. “Don’t worry Yun, I’m fine.” Hongjoong cleared his throat, gesturing towards him. “Stop keeping me in suspense! What’d you learn?”

“Oh, um,” Yunho began, sliding into the open chair. “The name of their leader. One word, nothing else—it was one of the words we couldn’t make sense of.”  _ It’s for Hongjoong. _ “Sang. I’ve already sent Seonghwa into the field.”

Hongjoong let out a sigh of relief. “Aaah, Yun! You’re gonna get all the credit.”

“Oh hush,” he replied instantly. “You’ve done more for this project than any of us. Don’t forget who saved it from the brink.”

“I know, I know.” Hongjoong sank back onto the bed, huffing as he caught his breath; he dismissed Yunho’s offer of assistance with a wave. “That still doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Yunho didn’t miss the way Hongjoong’s eyes clouded and his lip trembled.

“There’s … there’s more.” He forced down his emotions and swung his bag into his lap, digging around within. Yunho pulled a notebook free—his own personal notes. Flipping it open, he landed upon the newest page and traced a finger down the side. “I went back through the video logs again and I noticed something. The time the Door manifested, or at least the time they thought it did; I think it’s a clue. They couldn’t touch it and they could barely see it. What if their leader, this Sang, is the key?”

“Then … we need all five for the Door to properly manifest?” Hongjoong asked. “That makes it easier, I suppose.”

“And a whole lot harder.” Yunho sighed, flipping a few pages back. A pink sticky note glared back at him and Yunho’s palm fanned out upon one of the passages he’d translated. “You need to rest more, Hongjoong. This journey has to be taken alone so you’ll need your strength; don’t make all this trouble go to waste.” It was meant to be teasing but the words still fell with heavy weight.

Hongjoong still laughed, even if it sounded just a bit forced. “That’s mean, Yun! I’m not a waste!”

Yunho’s attention shifted back up. Hongjoong’s face was pale, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. “Of course not.” He stood back up, tucking his journal away. “I have a lot of preparations to make so I’ve gotta get back to the lab. Stay in bed from now on or I’ll make you stay there myself.”

“What if they never let me leave? The nurses adore me, Yun,” his partner giggled.

There was the Hongjoong he remembered.

—————— xxx —————

Seonghwa’s walking was aimless. His steps had no purpose, no destination, and his heart continued to thump in his chest. He had been drifting through the rain-slicked streets for nearly two hours, the morning sun making the puddles glitter and the atmosphere solemn. There was no chance in hell Seonghwa would find Yeosang just traversing the streets without even knowing what to look for. He wasn’t a dog and he certainly couldn’t ask random strangers if they’d spotted him. Seonghwa was a security guard working a highly classified case. He had no true authority to ask questions or conduct an actual investigation. Off the record, out of sight; the brand of a supernatural bounty hunter.

Yeosang was no ordinary Seeker. How old he truly was, where he came from, what he was capable of … he had to be quite powerful to still be alive. Unseen, on the run, free of the fears of mortality. The things he must’ve seen, the places he could’ve gone …

He should’ve been heading back to the lab, pouring over the holo projectors and digging through the last few hours of security and traffic light cameras. Empyrean did have that at least; having a monolith over the cameras sold in the immediate area. One of them must have spotted Yeosang. There was no way he could’ve just disappeared without a trace, not in the age of tracking devices, cameras, cellphones … unless he had none of that. The more he thought about it, the more he realized the bartender never seemed to check a phone. He always kept his back to the security cameras in the bar, never said too much or too little, and kept his head down.

Yeosang was good at hiding in plain sight.

The sound of his phone ringing brought him out of his thoughts. He stared at his reflection in a shop window, allowing it to ring for a moment, before finally pulling it from his pocket. 

“Yeah, Seonghwa.”

< Seonghwa! I-I, just— > There was a pause, followed by a soft sob.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, Yunho. What do you need?”

< It’s Hongjoong! > His hand squeezed his phone impossibly tight. < You need to get here right away! Now, Seonghwa! He-he relapsed! They … they think he’s …! >

“Don’t say it,” Seonghwa hissed. “Don’t you  _ dare _ say it. I’m on my way.” He didn’t give Yunho a chance to reply, ending the call and slamming his phone back into his pocket. Seonghwa’s shoes skidded through a puddle as he took off down the sidewalk, his mind racing.

If Hongjoong … if he  _ died _ … everything would be for nothing.

Watching from a window across the street, following every movement Seonghwa made, was Yeosang.


	3. nascent

The wind pulled at Sang’s clothes, carrying with it the scent of wildflowers and birdsong. It was peaceful and serene, perfect for meditation, and he had spent many long hours there. High atop a cliff with a river breaking around either side, the water falling down into a pool located in the center of their training grounds. 

Rarely did others bother him there—it was his own slice of solitude. 

Everyone except for  _ him _ .

Sang heard his approach first. Feet kicking through the grass, footfalls sending minute vibrations through the earth. He leapt over the small river and landed with a touch of grace, artificial breeze caressing his cheek. The Seeker sighed, cracking open a single eye as he admitted defeat.

“For the Master of Wind, you still haven’t mastered how to walk silently,” Sang greeted. He opened his eyes completely, the blue sky beyond filled with fluffy clouds. The grasses around him were awash with various windflowers, their sweetness tickling his nose and attempting to force a sneeze. 

“If my intention was silence, you would’ve never known,” the newcomer greeted back.

Sang’s head turned, meeting the other man’s grin. His name was Felix, a Seeker four years off from his Immortalis but with spirit to rival the stars. Hair the color of fresh ice and eyes a few shades brighter than the sky above, his smile often encapsulated the sun. He walked over and dropped to the ground, joining him there.

“I know everything,” he replied with a chuckle. “Just as I knew you’d visit me this afternoon.”

Felix laughed, slinging his elbows over his knees. “No element of surprise here, huh.”

“I assume there’s a reason for your visit,” Sang continued, “considering you’re one of the few with the capability of joining me here.”

The other Seeker hummed, a warm tendril of air snaking around Sang’s body. It was meant to soothe and Sang understood that there was grave news upon the horizon despite the moderately calm atmosphere. “... Yvonne has chosen a time.”

Sang closed his eyes, a streak of energy running from where he was connected with the earth. It was invisible, seeking out a specific stone amongst a sea of many in that realm. He found it without trouble, knowing exactly where Yvonne, the Master of Earth, would spend her final moments. Her heart was faint and her power was fading, the essence of all her students crowded around her. 

Still, it was not a sad time—it never was. When a Seeker died, their essence went into the stone they possessed, and their power was passed onto the next one chosen in the cycle. All of their wisdom and knowledge went with it, granting the new Seeker a renewed sense of power.

“We cannot glimpse the manner which surrounds our death—”

“—lest we destroy the flow of time,” Felix finished. “Nor should we attempt to view or prevent the death of another, for their heart strengthens the future.” 

Sang snorted, reopening his eyes. He leaned forwards, plucking a single pink windflower blossom from its stem. “My, my, the deviant does remember.”

“Deviant, not distrait,” Felix replied. The other Seeker plucked a flower as well, the bright orange standing out against the green. His own wind launched him from the ground, Felix landing gracefully amongst the flowers. 

“Let’s not keep her waiting. She has served well and deserves to go on her terms,” Sang murmured, rising to his feet. He held out a hand towards Felix; the latter accepted it. They stepped to the edge, clutching their flowers, and jumped. 

—————— xxx —————

No matter how many times they ended up there, Seonghwa would never get used to it. None of them would. Staring through a glass window, eyes shifting to a clock, the halls bleached white and smelling of sterile cleaning solution … He hated it. Hated the waiting more than anything, a doctor arriving with the news of life or death.

Yet there they were, staring through that smeared glass window, their hearts thumping and the clock behind their back ticking the seconds away—seconds that Hongjoong would never get back. 

Seonghwa had been standing there since he arrived, hands shoved deep into his pockets and mind awash with thoughts. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Hongjoong’s sleeping face, tubes sprouting from his body and machines scattered all around him. How many times would they suffer through this, waiting for it to be the end? How long before they could finally end it and get the cure for his ailment? How much longer would Hongjoong have to suffer at the hands of something they couldn’t control? Something Seonghwa didn’t even understand?

“He had a seizure,” Yunho murmured behind him; he had been seated against the far wall since Seonghwa arrived. “And I just … Hwa. Hwa!  _ Seonghwa! _ ” Yunho’s raised voice finally broke Seonghwa from his stupor. He turned around, trembling, and met the other man’s eyes. “He was  _ glowing _ , Hwa. Like a rainbow. Just bursts of light all over and-and he  _ screamed _ … like nothing I’ve ever heard.”

Seonghwa crossed the room, dropping to his knees before Yunho. He slid his hands upon his friend’s and gave them a squeeze; he could see the dried tears on his face. “Yun …”

“He’s  _ dying _ , Seonghwa. If we don’t figure this out soon …” His words broke off into a new sob and Seonghwa allowed Yunho to slide onto the floor with him, clinging to him. Even as the tallest one of their trio, Yunho felt so small against him. “I-I can’t lose him, not again!”

“I know, I know,” he whispered, allowing Yunho to relieve the stress he knew had inevitably been building. Holding him, Seonghwa turned his attention back to the tiny room Hongjoong was currently lying in. They were too low to see inside but Seonghwa didn’t need to; his emotions still burned all the same.

Hongjoong saved him from a life of unsavory practices. He gave him a new purpose, a new direction, with the goal of bettering mankind. Even if all that shit was a lie, even if what they were really doing was furthering Empyrean’s agenda, there was one absolute. Kim Hongjoong was his savior, his friend, and he was one of the most important people in his life. More than a friend—family, with the final piece sobbing against him and the very real possibility that it would all fall apart without notice.

If he had any doubt before, it was gone now.

—————— xxx —————

“Begin the preparations,” Sang murmured. 

“Are you … are you sure?” Felix whispered, clutching his elbow weakly. “T-this has never happened before, Sang.”

He lifted his arm, Felix’s fingers sliding free; his decision was clear. The stone in his wrist glittered with the same beauty a waterfall rainbow would. “We will only find our answers in the newest stone, Felix.”

Around the room, the rest of the Seekers residing in the Orrery had gathered. Sang could not see all of their faces but he could see the glow of their auras, each one corresponding to the stone manifested in their wrist. 

“What if we can’t come back?” Another voice demanded. It belonged to the Master of Fire, a Seeker by the name of Hwanwoong. “We’ve never attempted this with just four of us, Sang.”

Sang could feel their fear and uncertainty. It permeated through him, hot and sharp. He could feel it from all of them, their faces unsettled. “And what if we’re never able to leave again? The uncertainty lies on both sides. You are all that remains of the Four Stars. What will we do if another master is not born?” Still, he could tell they were unconvinced, their doubts weighing upon him. “I will shoulder the weight of two stones and only I will pass through. You will remain here to watch and guide until my return.”

The Master of Poison stared at him, mouth agape. Jongho was his name, the youngest of the Four Stars but not without power. “Sang, you can’t be serious,” he began. “There’s no way you can open the Door on your own, let alone survive the journey back!”

“Even  _ you _ can’t shoulder that burden,” Hwanwoong hissed. “It’ll be the end of you!”

Moments of tense silence passed before, finally, Sang gave in. He let his arm drop, the collective energy in the room fizzling back to its usual level. “... You’re right, it will be.” He scanned their faces, first with Felix, then with Hwanwoong, and finally Jongho. His resolve began to crumble even if his heart knew what it needed to do. 

“Walk with me; there is a truth I need to share with all of you.”

—————— xxx —————

Yeosang left the information gathering part of their process to Youngjo. He had always been a smart, resourceful person. Quick-witted, silver tongued, and charming; he supposed that came with the Blessing of Light. Still, Youngjo had adapted to the human world as well. He learned the technology, understood the way things worked, and managed to create a life for himself all while hiding below the radar. The man was no Master of Illusion but he still made it work. 

The logistical side of things was up to Yeosang. They couldn’t return to Youngjo’s home following their attempt at freedom. It was too close, too obvious, even under a fake name. No, they needed somewhere else, somewhere they could hide with minimal suspicion. So it was Yeosang’s job to go locate that safe place … even if it’d only be a temporary stop.

_ Then what, Yeosang? You go back on the run? Hide until there’s an inevitable next time? _

Before he knew it, a day had passed. Once again he was outside after a night of rainfall, the smell of wet grass and damp pavement all around him. He pulled his hood down further, peering out at the wet concrete sidewalk. Yeosang had been standing under the same awning for close to thirty minutes, just watching the world pass him by. Some people were students. Others were office workers. But they were all just … regular people. They went to school, had a job, freely went for walks, had pets … He wondered what that felt like. To just exist without worrying what others might do or think.

Shaking away his heavy feelings, Yeosang took a step out into the morning sun. He didn’t have time to stand around and let his mind run wild, not when others like himself, who had no idea who they really were, happened to be in distress. Yeosang hadn’t been a leader in a long, long time … and now others were suffering for it.

So he wandered, taking inventory with his mind. His powers had dulled over the years but he could still remember a fair bit at a single time. Yeosang passed shops, warehouses, the shipyard, etc. but none of them were worthy of being their next retreat. 

_ You made this happen, Sang … This is your fault. _

His eyes twitched, Yeosang thrusting his hands into his pockets. 

_ You left them behind … You didn’t listen … _

Children ran by, their laughter loud and cheerful. 

_ They’re gone because of you … _

Yeosang’s walking came to a halt, his eyes burning back at him in the window of some unknown shop. He could see so many emotions swimming within them. Anger, regret, sadness … guilt.

Without warning, the world tipped on its side. Colors grew brighter, burning hot in his field of vision. Something snapped within his very soul, detaching from him, and suddenly Yeosang was thrust into a string of light and movement. 

It was blurry, but he could barely make out the form of Seonghwa. The man was standing over a person slumped against a wall while Yeosang was lying on the ground, watching. There was another, a third, someone else he didn’t recognize right behind him. Both of them were crying.

The images changed, showing him a man he did not recognize. Beside him stood the visage of someone he had not seen in centuries, his aura bright red. His hand was upon the taller man’s shoulder and he was smiling.

There was another change. Suddenly he was overlooking the Orrery. The grass below his feet was dead and brittle, the waters of the rivers black and cold. Down below the pillars leading to their living quarters were broken and crumbled, a mantra of cries mixed with the stench of fear thick and cloying in the air. Yeosang watched as a burst of light exploded in the training grounds, blinding him.

Then he was back on the streets of the present, staring himself in the face.

He stumbled forward, palm flattening against cool glass. It had been a long time since Yeosang had experienced more than one vision at the same time. They had taken a toll on him, leaving him winded and off balance. Yeosang was visibly shaken, the visions coupled with the voices making his head feel cloudy.

Then, clarity—he understood.

_ Home ... _

“I can’t!” He suddenly cried out, pressing his forehead against the glass—he was grateful the place was empty. “I can’t go back,” he said, quieter. “None of us can.”

_ Because of you, Sang … All because of you. _

“Can’t go back where, Yeosang?”

The Seeker whipped around, completely caught off guard. Seonghwa stood only a few steps away, hand resting over his hip. 

Yeosang did not give him a moment to breathe. He darted to the left on instinct, racing down the sidewalk while his heart hammered in his chest. The other man was hot on his heels, the sound of their feet landing upon the cement thundering in his ears. They dodged around corners, cars, other people, his mind racing with possibility in the attempt to lose his pursuer. He had never been a fighter; he had always been better at running. But between the visions and his own weakened state, he knew he wouldn’t be able to get away. So, he made a choice. 

Yeosang allowed himself to be guided to a deadend. An alleyway, sealed for the business on the front. There was only himself, Seonghwa, and a single dumpster. The morning sun had not yet reached it, shadows still soaking it in cold. He turned around, putting his back to the dumpster, but he did not allow Seonghwa to intimidate him against it. 

The world narrowed to the two of them, Yeosang hyper aware of his breathing. Seeing Seonghwa now, normally soft expression blank with the intent of capture; it rattled him. They had been laughing and joking barely a day before, talking about their lives, their jobs, their dreams. How fragile it all was, their vague sense of happiness being torn asunder by the simple label of  _ quarry _ versus  _ companion _ . Not a single trace of warmth remained in his features.

“Why?” Yeosang whispered first. “Why, Seonghwa?”

“I should be asking you that question …  _ Sang _ .”

His shoulders dropped and it all clicked into place. Years and years ago, when Yeosang had still contained a spark of life, he had made the choice to keep a record. Something simple, a way to get his feelings out, detailing the lives of the people he had held most dear—a journal, filled front to back with their exploits, their ranks, his visions. Everything one would need to fully understand a Seeker and what they were capable of. He had thrown it away afterwards, convinced no one would ever care to mess with a book written in a language lost to the sands of time.

Oh how wrong he was; just further proof of Yeosang’s arrogance.

“I have so many questions, so many things I want to know,” Seonghwa continued. “But the one thing I can’t wrap my head around is why?”

Yeosang inhaled shakily. “How can you look at me like that? Like I’m nothing but an animal?”

_ “Why?” _ The other man insisted. “If you’re really a Seeker, capable of seeing the future … why? Why did you stay?”

Still, he ignored Seonghwa’s own question, dancing around it. “And what about you, Seonghwa? I’m not the only one with a secret here!”

Seonghwa laughed bitterly, hand tightening at his hip; Yeosang eyed it warily. “Stop avoiding my question! Answer me, Yeosang!” 

“Because you made me feel  _ alive _ again!” Yeosang spat. “I’ve been alive a long, long time, Seonghwa. I’ve met many people, lived in many places, and seen things you can only dream of.” He paused, laughing softly. “You’re the first person who made me want to stay.”

Silence closed in on them, heavy and uncomfortable. 

Seonghwa was the one to move first. Back instead of forward. Two steps, just enough to give him some space. They regarded each other quietly but Yeosang didn’t allow himself to be lured into the false sense of calm. “How … how can I ever trust you again?”

“I’m not a bad person, Seonghwa. None of us are,” he pleaded, hands balling into fists. “We’re just … people born a little different, with powers we never asked for.” He stopped Seonghwa before he could speak again, his own temper surging forth. “How can I trust  _ you? _ You  _ hunt _ people like me just because you don’t understand!”

“I have to, Yeosang! One of my friends is dying, someone I love, and only you people can save him!”

The ground lurched beneath his feet. It felt like someone punched him in the chest and his eyes went wide, Yeosang feeling the pieces of his heart stab deeper. “And what about me?” He asked softly. “What about me?” This time louder. “I heard you say it, Seonghwa. You can’t say it meant nothing when you had no damn idea who I was yet!”

Seonghwa faltered too and Yeosang watched the burst of emotions that ran through his features. He could tell Seonghwa had thought of this too. It was fresh, barely twenty four hours ago; there was no way he could’ve worked through all of his feelings yet. Yeosang certainly hadn’t … and he’d been trying for a long, long time.

“We … we know you can open something. A doorway, capable of granting immor—”

“It’s not what you want it to be,” Yeosang interrupted. Now it made sense and he lifted a hand, rubbing at his temple. “What you’re chasing, what you’re trying to do; the price for immortality isn’t worth it, Seonghwa.”

“You’re the only option we have left!” Seonghwa insisted. “He’s dying! And this might be the only way to save him! Please, come with me, help me get him better ...”

Yeosang shook his head, stepping back against the dumpster. His stone began to glow faintly, catching Seonghwa’s attention. “I can’t, Seonghwa. That place, the Door … it’s not a place for normal humans.”

“It’s all we have, Yeosang. The only hope _ he _ has,” the man pleaded. 

“That book. How much of it did you translate?” He whispered. “If you have reached the page containing my name then you must know the price for all of it, the burden of what we as Seekers must bear.” 

“I understand, Yeosang, I do. But you don’t understand what we’ve dealt with, what it’s been like. Watching him get weaker and weaker, watching him forget how to hold things, be too weak to stand on his own. It’s hell!” Seonghwa’s resolve appeared renewed, his hand reaching for his hip. This time he removed something. At first glance it appeared to be a gun, but Yeosang realized it was a taser. After all, what use was he if he died. “I just need you to come with me. We can save him and then you can all go home.”

Yeosang laughed, breathy. “Home … do you even know what  _ home _ is for someone like me? We can never go home, Seonghwa. Never, and it’s all my fault.” He met Seonghwa’s resolve head on, his own will to live finding new material to burn. “I went through to investigate why one of our master’s stones didn’t return to the cycle. I went knowing I wouldn’t be able to open the way back on my own and that they could not go through without me. I trapped them there and in doing so broke the cycle we had lived by for years. The Seekers you have, the young ones, there is no way they can shoulder the burden of opening the Door again. They will  _ die _ under the strain and those that don’t will become the last in their cycles!”

The moment he finished speaking, Seonghwa lunged towards him. Allowing him to speak had been a distraction, an attempt to get Yeosang to lower his guard, but he had been on the run way too long for that. His stone burst into a blinding brown light, consuming Yeosang’s body and enveloping every inch of him it could. When it finally ended, a small bird was left in his place. He spread his wings and took off from the ground, leaving a stunned Seonghwa behind. The man jumped for him, reaching for his tiny body, hand snapping shut just a hair away from his wing.

As he rose over the alleyway, Yeosang paused, watching Seonghwa below. He shouted something that sounded like  _ sorry _ and then a gust of wind carried him away.

If only he could follow it forever.

—————— xxx —————

Yeosang paused before the waterfalls, standing on the island just between. Who remained of the Four Stars stood just behind, their auras knocking against his own despite his not facing them. There were too many emotions, too much uncertainty, and it pressed upon him uncomfortably. He did his best to ignore them but it was hard, especially when the Orrery contained nearly two hundred unique souls with their own unique auras; it was hard to block out all of them.

The Seeker lifted his hand, his stone glittering in the ever-present sunlight. It began to glow and a rumble erupted beneath their feet. Before their eyes a section of rock in the cliffside started to move, peeling back to reveal a dark cave. A chorus of whispers rushed out to greet them, cool air pulling at their clothes and voices giggling at their arrival.

“Follow,” Sang murmured, setting off towards the cave. He didn’t pause to confirm his command was heard and stepped inside the dark cave. It instantly burst to life with color, sparkling all through the rock and soil in every color imaginable. Footsteps echoing behind him confirmed the others were following thus Sang continued, leading his companions deeper into the cave. After a few moments, the tunnel began to open up into a larger area, still alive with the same bright crystals. 

Residing in the center of the room were several larger crystals, nestled together. Fifteen of them, all corresponding to those of the Seekers found around the Orrery. One of them was dull and cracked, flickering faintly; the grey had already leaked out of it. Right beside it was the empty husk of a crystal long dead, sad and unnatural in their midst. Some of the others had begun to fade, small cracks and fissures adorning their surfaces. 

Sang stopped first, his uneasy translating to those behind him. Hwanwoong joined him on his right, Jongho and Felix to his left. They observed what was before them, the others taking in the sacred place only Sang had ever been lucky enough to see before now. 

“We’re dying,” Jongho whispered, fearful. “Our immortality isn’t forever.”

“It never was,” Sang answered softly. 

Their eyes turned to him, seeking an answer to their many questions. He inhaled, grounding himself against the rising fear of their power. 

“W-what?” Hwanwoong stammered. “What do you mean?” For the first time since Sang had met him, he sounded genuinely afraid.

“Seekers are a cycle. One dies, another is born. A Master dies, another is born. All of that energy flows and passes through here. Without these crystals, safely protected in the Orrery, we cannot continue our cycle,” Sang continued.

“So when the cycle is broken …” Felix murmured.

“Then no more Seekers can be born with that blessing.” Sang finally walked forward, bending to gently touch the dead crystal. He broke a shard free and rose, presenting it to the others in an open palm; no spark of life remained. “There have been no Seekers of Time here in a long, long while. I’m sure you’ve noticed that, felt the lack of their presence?”

Jongho hesitated, his brow furrowed in thought. “Lyn. There hasn’t been a time manipulator since Lyn passed.”

“I am not the first leader.” Sang gripped the shard tightly, examining their shocked expressions. “And I won’t be the last. A new leader is chosen when the crystals begin to die. Our energy,  _ my _ energy,” he added, “is needed to revitalize them. I must die so the rest of you can live.”

The moment the words were spoken, the area around them lit up in a brilliant flash. Whispers echoed through the wide space, their voices blending together in a mantra of words. Emotions flowed through the rock and radiated into their own bodies, It brought forth love and hatred, warmth and cold, sad and happy. Above it all, sweet and singsong through the string of voices and upset cries, was a single word.

_ Ours. _

—————— xxx —————

“Welcome back!” Youngjo called, waving a hand; his demeanor changed as Yeosang stumbled through the door.

He slammed it shut behind him, lower lip trembling. The moment he was within the solitude of Youngjo’s house he sank to his knees, doubling over as pain tore through his chest. Yeosang coughed, throat burning, and stared at the drops of blood spattered along the tiles. None of that pain held a candle to the flame burning his wrist, the inferno growing and forcing all of his strength free.

“Yeosang! Are you alright?” Hands pressed against his shoulders and Yeosang allowed himself to be guided into Youngjo’s lap, the other Seeker looking him over for injury. 

He clung to him weakly, his whole body quivering with the aftermath of what he’d done. “H-had to,” he gasped

Youngjo didn’t even feign thoughtfulness. “You forced your power?”

“Found me.” Yeosang tilted his head back, meeting Youngjo’s eyes. “I had to.”

The other Seeker sighed, clutching him tighter. “You’re back. You’re here. That’s what matters. Can you stand?”

“I … I need to sleep,” he whispered, slumping against Youngjo’s body. “Sleep …” If Youngjo replied, he didn’t hear it, his mind consumed by warm darkness and gentle murmurs.

He dreamed for the first time in years. It was abstract, just full of pointless color and voices he couldn’t pinpoint. Yeosang felt like he was drifting along in the whims of a current, carrying him from one vague memory to the next. Then there were auras, the outlines of people in colors he remembered well. Each shape he knew well, their names hot on his tongue but Yeosang unable to say them. They watched him go by in silence, waving his goodbyes. Some of them cheered, some of them wept, and others were … angry.

Yes, angry. Searing and painful. So damn painful.

Yeosang tried to cry out to them, to ask for forgiveness, but he realized he was in a bubble. It consumed his feelings, his power and tossed it all right back at him. Burned through him without mercy, tore him apart from the inside, and left him raw and exposed under the eyes of so many others. The eyes of people who loved him, trusted him, looked to him for leadership.

“And you  _ betrayed _ them,” a voice hissed. “You _ lied _ to them.”

He whipped around and suddenly he was back on the street, Seonghwa standing an arm’s reach away. An aura permeated the air around him, black as night and growing in intensity.

“You  _ destroyed _ them, Sang,” Seonghwa spat, but it was not his voice. Yeosang recognized it from his past—Hwanwoong.

“I was trying to help.” His voice was impossibly small.

“You killed them all!” The man continued and suddenly the land between them split in two, a fissure separating them. “Selfish, selfish, selfish!” 

Yeosang turned around, wanting to escape from the vision as quickly as possible, but Hwanwoong was suddenly behind him. His eyes were bright red, his stone glowing so brightly that tendrils of flame were bursting out of it. Before he could get a word out Hwanwoong kicked him, knocking him back into the fissure. 

He fell for what felt like forever, further away from the light and into an unknown abyss, until he landed on the ground. Light as a feather, weightless, supported by a gust of wind …

“Felix.”

The owner of the name dropped down beside him, a gentle smile on his face. “I know it’s not your fault, Sang.” His voice was soft, gentle. “Only you can fix things. Only you.” Felix rose, taking a step back.

“W-wait!” Yeosang called out. “Don’t go!”

His heart sank as he realized Felix had no aura. Yeosang looked down, located his wrist, and gasped; it was empty, just a vacant hole of what had once been there.

“Don’t go! Felix!” He reached out, trying desperately to grasp his hand, but Felix only grew further away.

“You can fix things,” he repeated softly. “For all of us …”

_ “Felix!”  _

Yeosang’s eyes snapped open, vision swimming as it settled back into reality. The Seeker snapped upright, clapping a hand to his temple with a groan. He lifted his right hand and examined his wrist, noting the color had settled and the pain was gone. Almost as if Felix himself had taken it away.

“Are you alright?” Youngjo asked, dropping down next to him.

He traced the stone in his wrist with a single finger. His mind wasn’t racing or running wild with thoughts nor was he attempting to decipher the dreams his mind had so unhelpfully given. No, Yeosang was scarily calm, his mind sound and made up.

“Have you found a way in?”

“Yeo—”

“A way in, Youngjo. Did you find it.” It wasn’t a question. 

Youngjo’s shoulders dropped, the faint spark of his aura unsettling. “... The sewers. They never sealed an opening in one of the warehouses.”

Yeosang finally turned to acknowledge him, sliding a hand over one of Youngjo’s. He too had found his resolve, the sight of it making Youngjo’s eyes go wide. “We have to free them … and then we have to go home. Back to the Orrery … Back to where it all began.”

His surety was met with a heavy swallow but Youngjo did not challenge him. Instead, he smiled, giving him a nod. “Tonight, when the moon is at its faintest. We’ll free them.”

“Together,” Yeosang murmured.

“Together,” Youngjo replied.

—————— xxx —————

San had many regrets in his life. 

He had never been a rebel. He wasn’t used to taking risks or stepping out of line. Between school and the mess that was his homelife, he had little time for acting out. His parents were gone often, their trips taking them all around the world for absurd amounts of time. His grandmother raised him to be a good soul. Good grades, good personality, and a bright future.

All of it had come to an end the day he turned sixteen. 

No, that wasn’t right … even before then. The day he was born.

It began with little things. Sometimes when he touched the wall the lights would go out. Whenever he got too excited in the kitchen, the clocks would begin blinking and the timers would go off. By the time he reached age five, he couldn’t even enter an electronics store without the whole place going haywire. He was a magnet for electricity. In the beginning, just pulling it into himself was one thing, but the day he began putting it out was another. From tiny sparks to bolts within weeks, San was so terrified of accidentally hurting someone that he nearly dropped out of school and ran away. 

By the time he turned sixteen, San had succeeded in pushing every person important to him away. Even his grandmother was afraid to upset him, knowing that any amount of stress resulted in a strange surge that fried everything in the house. 

Things changed on the day of his sixteenth birthday. He woke up uncomfortably warm, his wrist aching. San scratched and scratched at it, squirming in his sheets in an effort to get away from the pain, but it did nothing. It only lasted close to a minute but it felt so much longer, just burning and itching before something finally split through his skin. From it rose a stone, bright yellow and swirling with light. The pain tapered off, turning into a dull hum before it was gone completely. 

Immediately afterwards San experienced his first vision. He had no idea what it meant. Really, it had no meaning. Just light and color and confusing sounds just meant to inform him of the potential waiting for him on the horizon. They grew stronger after that, less fluid, more coherent. He still had trouble understanding what they meant for they were never about him. San could never identify them. Their voices were too muffled, their faces blurred, the place he was in too confusing. He had no idea who he was or what he was capable of and it wasn’t like he had anyone he could turn to for answers.

San chose to run away. Another regret in a list of screw ups; he never saw his grandmother again. His ability to control his powers had worsened and he was so scared of hurting her that the only option he thought he was worthy of was becoming a drifter. He wasn’t normal. He had powers and could see the future. No one would take him seriously.

No one until he met Park Seonghwa.

He was an attractive man. A smooth talker with a pretty face and an inviting personality. He had the charisma it took for San to trust him. San had grown up listening to stranger danger and all that bullshit but he was an adult. When offered food and water he thought nothing of it. Then Seonghwa brought up the stone. San attempted to play it off but he rounded back to the powers that came with it.

_ Maybe you have headaches or see things you’ve never seen before. Maybe your wrist hurts. Maybe you experience sparks of something you believe is magic. I know all about it. _

Seonghwa was the only one who knew anything about why he was different. So, San went with him willingly. He promised control, the ability to have a normal life, to know who and what he was. They flew in an airplane for the first time and Seonghwa drove him through fancy city lights. His stepping stone to a better life ended just as abruptly as it began. San went from salvation to a prisoner in moments. Locked in a tiny cage and left there to be studied by people in white coats.

He screamed at first. Demanded to be let out, for someone to listen, to treat him like a person, but San knew that he wasn’t … and he never would be. He was something different, something they deemed dangerous enough to keep in a cage like a bird or a wild animal. 

Someone existed in that place long before San ever showed up. Wooyoung, he learned, capable of bending the earth beneath him. Mingi came soon after, flames burning hotly. Both had similar stories. Stone appearing in their wrist the day they turned sixteen, powers they couldn’t explain, visions of a future they could barely understand ...

_ Seekers. _ The lead scientist, Dr. Jeong—Yunho, called them Seekers. 

They tried to escape but were contained. When San wanted a better life, living in a cage under constant surveillance wasn’t what he had in mind. But the bars … they couldn’t use their powers. There, they were normal, and San laughed bitterly. 

Control, knowing what he was, a “normal life” … just not in the way any of them had hoped for.

If he had to pick one thing he regretted the most, it would be leaving the accursed stone embedded in his flesh. Had he pulled it free, tossed it out … maybe things would’ve been different. He could’ve been normal. Gone to school, gotten a job, started a family one day. Now he was nothing but a lab rat awaiting his next meal and it  _ destroyed _ him inside.

“... an! San!”

He broke out of his one-sided staring contest, the wall winning yet another round. San turned himself over in his bed, staring out across the way to the source of the voice. Wooyoung was as close to the edge of his bars as he could get, Mingi mirroring him.

“Have you been listening?” Wooyoung asked.

San glanced between the two of them. Was his back turned, arms over head approach not enough for them? “Not really,” he replied.

Mingi sighed, crossing his arms. He too looked between them. “He asked if you could feel the change.”

“... Change?” San’s attention was caught and he spun around completely. He attempted to extend his senses through the barrier surrounding them, the purple sparking him with pain. The Seeker hissed as the stone in his wrist flared up in momentary pain. “What change?”

“It’s … in the air. Something is different,” Wooyoung continued. 

San eyed him for a moment before closing his eyes. This time he allowed his mind to meld with the air around him. He listened to the sound of his breathing, his own heartbeat, and tried his hardest to focus. His power stayed contained, humming throughout his body and amplifying his senses.

His eyes snapped back open and he gasped. “I can feel it!”

“My whole body feels alive with power,” said Mingi. “Something’s coming.” 

“Yeah, something’s coming,” San echoed, looking down at his wrist. The yellow inside had begun to swirl, sparks of light running down the length of his arm, and San’s entire frame was alive with energy.

“They’re coming,” Wooyoung said suddenly, rising to his feet. His head turned, glancing to the doorway, but San could tell he didn’t mean the scientists.

“Who?” Mingi asked. “Who’s coming?”

“Him. It’s him,” San murmured, unsure how he knew. “The one who started it all.”

—————— xxx —————

Sang knew what he was doing was bad before he even did it.

The ground beneath his feet pulsated with energy. Thin cracks spidered out from the platform he was standing upon, changing color every few moments. At the center, just beyond his body, were five pedestals. They were cool and dark, devoid of light and warm. Yeosang extended his hand, running his fingers along the one in the center. A faint glow emanated from the center at the realization of his presence and faded again as he pulled his fingers away.

He was there against the wishes of everyone else. They wished to keep him around, to prevent his sacrifice, but Sang would not allow it. The future of every Seeker was more important than the life of one. Using his stone, he could breathe life back into the Orrery and return life into the crystals. Seekers would continue to be born and carry on their legacy. A new soul would become leader, blessed with the stone of wisdom, and the cycle would carry on. 

_ “We cannot glimpse the manner which surrounds our death—lest we destroy the flow of time.” _

But Sang had known the first time he’d stepped foot into the Orrery that this was what awaited him.

He closed his eyes and pictured their faces. From the Seekers that brought him there to his newest pupil … they were a part of him. Part of the cycle, the future, the energy that kept their legacy going and guaranteed it would continue long after his death. Sang would rejoin that cycle and through him the next leader would be born, carrying with them all the knowledge and emotions he had accumulated during his lifetime. It was an honor to be chosen but it was also a curse and his only hope for who came after was that they would be able to lead with a fair heart, just as he had done.

Sang smiled and reopened his eyes, determination renewed. He extended the arm containing his stone and touched it with his other hand, feeling it pulsate beneath his fingertips. The rainbow within cast a glow upon him and Sang inhaled softly, knowing he would miss the way it twinkled no matter where he was. Sang pinched it gently and began to pull. His stone immediately began to ache, disliking what he was doing, but he bit his tongue and fought through the pain. He pulled until it came free, the cracks in the ground rippling in color; there was no doubt every other Seeker in the Orrery knew he was in distress. 

Sang had to work fast.

Raising his hand, the Seeker focused all of his energy into the stone before him. It began to glow, growing brighter as it accumulated all of his power within. Sang took a deep breath and allowed the energy to build before it exploded in a burst of blinding light. His stone split into four extra pieces, glittering brightly. He wasted no time in sending one of each to the various pedestals in front of him, his heart hammering in his chest and knees weak at the amount of power he’d just exerted. 

The stones clicked into place and the pedestals began to glow. Red, blue, purple, and green. Their light shone straight up in a single streak, before curving to meet above the final pedestal. It burst in the opposite direction, something beginning to manifest just beyond. An outline, being drawn into existence by the lights of the shards he had created.

Sang stepped forward and slotted his stone within the final place, watching the rock accept what was willingly given. It sank inside and a white-hot pain so intense it nearly overpowered him tore through his body. He held his scream of pain inside, clutching the pedestal for support, and watched a fifth and final beam of light join the others. Before his eyes, the beam began to formulate into an orb. The object beyond completed its manifestation moments later; it was the Door, and his stone had created the key.

Sang stumbled around the pedestal on shaky legs. His vision swam, all of his energy having gone into the stone. The key floated down, moving towards the Door, and slid into the lock. It turned with an echoing click, the Door creaking open. He could see nothing through the opening. Just darkness, a portal to another world, but Sang knew it was not the way back to the mortal one.

Then, without warning, a body rushed by him. 

He stood there, blinking in surprise, as Felix barred his way. The Seeker was standing just a step away from the open path. His expression was solemn, as if he’d made his peace already, and Sang understood what he was about to do.

“I can’t let you,” Felix murmured. “You can’t go.”

“Felix no! You can’t go in there!” Sang shouted, stumbling towards him. He reached out in the feeble attempt to grasp his wrist, to try and pull him away, but he was too late. His nail scraped along Felix’s wrist as his hand snapped shut, missing him.

“I’m sorry, Sang.” Felix mouthed something else before he stepped back into the darkness. The cave exploded into color, the earth shaking beneath his feet. Brilliant white light replaced the shadow within, consuming Felix’s body. 

Sang screamed, a sound of desperate upset. He froze his foot in place and reached inside, grasping Felix’s wrist. The light tore at Felix, fighting his intentions, but Sang’s resolve was stronger. Pulling as hard as he could, he tore Felix free from their grasp and pulled him out of the Door, sending him sprawling into the cave floor. His friend, his  _ lover _ , stared up at him with wide, broken eyes, knowing his last ditch effort to save everything he’d ever loved had failed.

Sang smiled softly, a tear rolling down his cheek, and allowed the light to take him instead. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry, Felix.” And then he was gone, the Door slamming shut and sending him flying backwards into a formless, shapeless existence. 

The last thing Sang heard as his soul was torn asunder were Felix’s final words.

_ “I love you.” _

—————— xxx —————

Seonghwa’s fist connected with the wall, pain ringing down his arm. 

“Hwa, stop it!” Yunho pleaded behind him. “It’s not your fault!”

He pulled back again but a hand caught his wrist, gripping him tightly. Seonghwa considered attempting to break free but the momentary lapse in anger was gone. His arm went limp in Yunho’s grasp and eventually he let go, allowing him to put his back against it. After a moment, he sighed. 

“I _ had _ him, Yun. He was  _ right there _ .”

“I know,” his friend soothed, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, Hwa. We always do.” 

“We’re running out of time,” Seonghwa whispered, tilting his head back. He stared into an overhead light, allowing it to blind him—to remind him just how human he truly was. “He gets worse every day and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Maybe … maybe we shouldn’t try,” Yunho said, even softer.

His attention came rushing back, Seonghwa’s head whipping over. “What? Yunho, you can’t be serious.”

“I-it’s just … I translated more a-and,” he stammered.

“Yeah, he said you would. That’s not important right now.” Seonghwa pushed off the wall and instead gripped both of Yunho’s shoulders. “You really think we should give up now? After all the work we put in? That  _ he _ put in? We’ve spent years of our lives trying to save him, Yunho! Years!”

Yunho broke away from his hold and stepped back. He stood there for a moment, expression wavering through a mess of emotions, before meeting Seonghwa’s eyes again. It was firm but he could still see the tears forming within. “I signed up to give humanity a chance at a better life, not to become—become  _ this _ , Seonghwa! A hunter of innocent people, stripping away their rights! Who are we to hold that authority, Hongjoong or not? Why do we get to choose this?”

“I didn’t ask for this either, Yunho! I didn’t ask to become a bounty hunter! I didn’t ask to befriend you guys but I did, and then you became family!” He spat. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep both of you safe,” Seonghwa said, much softer. 

“Would you take the life of another to save him, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa faltered. “W-what?”

“That’s the price for a human using the Door. The life of a Seeker in exchange for immortality,” Yunho whispered. “How can we make that choice, Seonghwa? How?”

One life in exchange for another. He felt gravity tilt, his fingers and toes going cold. “Hongjoong …”

“Hongjoong wouldn’t accept  _ murder _ as a solution. We were hired to help people, not … this.” Yunho’s hands were shaking, his eyes focused upon his open palms with such an openly raw expression. “We have to let them go, find a different solution … anything.”

“What other options do we have, Yun? If we give up now, we’ll lose him forever.” Was he … really doing this for Hongjoong? Seonghwa didn’t know, confusion muddling his head and making him clasp his temple in contemplation. 

“Are we forgetting who owns your paychecks, gentlemen?” A new voice cut in.

Seonghwa and Yunho’s eyes met before they both sought out the owner. His heart sank and his hands curled into fists.

Standing near Yunho’s computer, illuminated by the glow of screens, was the owner of Empyrean Industries—Song Eunbi. The light caught her smile, lopsided and amused, and Seonghwa knew immediately she could make their lives hell if she wanted to.

“Kim Hongjoong is the test and we will proceed as planned,” she continued, not offering the slightest greeting. “His successful return will ensure your names go down in history.”

“Maybe this is one page of history that shouldn’t be written,” Yunho challenged boldly.

She smiled, cold and unforgiving. “I will pretend I never heard that. The last two must be found, Seonghwa. I will not tolerate another failure, not when we’re so close.”

With seeds of doubt sown deeply, Seonghwa kept silent, a conflict brewing within him. He just hoped he made the right choice when it inevitably came down to it.


	4. prescient

“I’m a fool,” Hongjoong whispered. “A damn fool.”

Both Yunho and Seonghwa, the two of them sitting on very different sides of the room, lifted their heads. Yunho had a book and manila folder in his lap, chewing on the end of his favorite pen. Seonghwa had hold of a map, the red ink used to mark his various routes and search areas sleeping through the back.

“Yeah, you are,” Seonghwa replied first. “You gave us quite the scare this time.”

“We thought we lost you,” the other man murmured, snapping the folder shut. 

“I know … I’m sorry.” Hongjoong’s head fell back against the pillow, his eyes focused upon the dim expanse of ceiling tiles above his head. “I’m so sorry.”

Yunho got up first, dropping what he was working on into the space he one occupied. He joined him at the edge of the bed and reached down to gently grasp his hand, giving it a squeeze. “You promised you wouldn’t use it anymore, Joong.”

Seonghwa joined them next. His hands were kept strictly to the side of the bed. The void between them was unspoken but all three of them could still feel it; things had been like that for a long, long time. He said nothing and there had been a time where he didn’t need to. Once, a glance was enough; now he could barely understand him at all.

After a moment, he closed his eyes. “I had to see … had to know whether I lived or died.”

“You can—” began Yunho.

Hongjoong interrupted him, “I know, Yun. It’s their most absolute rule, their most sacred rite. But … I’m not them. I’m human.” His eyes reopened and he spent his time studying each of their faces. “And fear of death … is what keeps us alive.” He lifted his right arm, examining the grey discolored flesh. His veins had long turned black, tainted by the sickness swallowing every corner of his body. Its source flickered at even intervals in the center of his wrist, the area around it an uncomfortable yellow and oozing pus. A stone, sapping all the life energy it could from his body, the inside empty and black.

Created from the life essence of a Seeker, imbued with a random element of their choice—it was an experiment with such a low probability of success that Hongjoong had been required to sort his affairs will in advance. 

The stone had been light green in the beginning. It was pretty and radiated a calm, soothing vibe. Hongjoong had been so excited to be chosen in the beginning. An experiment for a better future, with the goal of moving powers from a Seeker into that of a human. Their stone wasn’t natural, created from the blood of a Seeker and what shards remained of their own stone. It was never meant to work nor was it meant to latch onto Hongjoong as a literal leech, siphoning every bit of strength and life he had in him. In the beginning, the plan had been to simply remove it, but any attempt was met with painful retaliation; the stone wouldn’t allow it.

They were sure he’d die within a day of the implant. A day passed and he continued breathing. Then a week passed and his next deadline was set. It went from a week to a month, then six months, then a year—and suddenly it was nearly two. 

So Yunho and Seonghwa, his co-workers, then his friends, then his lovers, were forced to see him wither and become a husk of his former self. Seonghwa had been unable to bear it and, truthfully, Hongjoong didn’t blame him. He still had Yunho, and Seonghwa needed something else, needed to cope in a different way. He was so happy when his former lover had begun gushing about the bartender he’d met, how he spent any time he wasn’t at the lab or in the field literally hunting people down in a place where he felt safe and comfortable.

Around the second anniversary of his slow death, Hongjoong began to notice things. A fellow scientist came in with a broken leg; it healed within an hour of being near him. Yunho cut his hand during a test; it healed before their very eyes. The janitor slipped in some water, twisting his ankle; he could walk on it again within minutes. 

Their experiment had worked; Hongjoong had been artificially given the status of Seeker.

Things grew worse after that. The stone began to itch and burn uncomfortably. No matter what Hongjoong tried, he could never get it to stop hurting. He tried cold water and patches and even ignoring it but nothing worked. Then the visions started. They were hot and uncomfortable and always left him in a daze afterwards. Hongjoong could understand nothing, just hearing bits of voices and tiny fractaled shards of memories that weren’t his own. His attempts at control were met with resistance but, after weeks of trial, he finally managed.

At that point, the color in his fake stone had begun to fade. It grew dimmer with each use of his “power.” His body grew weaker too, leaving him lightheaded and unsteady on his feet. Hongjoong’s veins began to grow dark, tainted with the poison of his imposter stone. He began to hear things regardless of whether he was attempting to see. His eyes would play tricks on him, showing him a great cliff with two waterfalls or a cave full of bright lights. 

They were memories for the species he could only pretend to be.

Then the day came where his stone lost its color completely, becoming dark, empty, and cold. 

Hongjoong attempted to glimpse into one of the greatest taboos known to the Seekers; the manner of his own death. The pain from his grave error was so great that he was left bedridden for nearly two weeks, just lying there staring blankly at the ceiling. He had never tried again, fearing the wrath his fake stone would inflict upon him might burn him up from the inside.

Never again … until the previous night.

He had to know. The need burned him alive from the inside, until it consumed his entire being and Hongjoong could ignore it no longer. Hongjoong remembered extending his senses and then there was nothing but pain; it wasn’t a surprise it ended in failure. A seizure, tearing a part of Hongjoong straight out of himself. He couldn’t explain it but he had felt something be physically removed, torn from his core and sliced out. They weren’t memories or emotions—it had been his very soul.

“You’re lucky to be alive,” Seonghwa scolded gently, the weight of all he’d done heavy in his face.

Was he? Was luck truly something that had blessed him? After months of suffering and the pain and sadness and anxiety that came with it, Hongjoong wasn't certain _ luck _ was a word meant for him. Other people, like those who won the lottery, were lucky; he was a walking husk with a mind that refused to acknowledge it had already died. 

“Yeah,  _ lucky _ ,” he snorted, placing his hand over his eyes. “The things I’ve done … it’s no wonder my life is like this.”

“You can’t give up hope,” Seonghwa murmured, and Hongjoong didn’t miss the look he exchanged with Yunho. “Otherwise this, all of it,” he said, gently touching Hongjoong’s wrist, “will be for nothing.”

The truth sat heavy in those words but they did nothing to ease the mixed feelings brewing in his mind. Hongjoong kept silent, staring at his wrist as they began to talk amongst themselves. His wrist twinged, the mild burn he’d grown used to flaring up enough to make him wince. The stone swirled with color, making him wonder if he’d imagined it, before settling back into its usual darkness. 

Hongjoong could tell something was on the horizon; he just hoped he was strong enough to get through it.

—————— xxx —————

_ Wake up, Sang … wake up … _

Water dripped onto his cheek, cool and startling. 

_ You have to wake up … _

Another drop landed, sliding down onto his chin. His eyelids fluttered, Sang struggling to swim to the surface of the darkness consuming his mind. He could hear a creek, softly babbling nearby. Sang became aware of the grass tickling his skin, pressing into his clothing. His nose twitched, carrying with it the scent of soil, and Sang finally dared to open his eyes. It was night, the full moon hanging heavily in the sky. A single tree beside him kept him entrenched in shadow.

Sang touched his cheek, feeling for any trace of water, but there was none. He pushed himself upright with weak arms, taking in his new surroundings. The grass around his immediate area was short but far beyond was filled with knee-high grasses. In the distance, illuminated by moonlight, were mountains stretching into the night sky. Aside from those few details, Sang could see nothing else nor did he have any idea where he happened to be.

His wrist suddenly twinged, Sang hissing at the pain. He lifted his hand and an acute jolt of fear radiated through him. The stone in his wrist, normally shimmering with the intensity of a rainbow, was now a pale echo of blue; his original color. He traced it with a shaky finger, feeling panic rise in his chest, and suddenly Sang remembered what he had done. Head whipping furiously, he examined the field in a feeble attempt to locate the energy signature of the Door, but there was nothing. Only swaying grasses in cold moonlight greeted him and Sang wondered just how long he had been there.

Fighting through the pain, he extended his senses, trying to reach through the ground in an attempt to locate someone nearby. His energy traced ant tunnels and tree roots, radiating through root and rock, but pulled up nothing; he could not feel a single Seeker. Even in another world Sang could feel the presence of everyone else; now there was nothing but silence, yawning and empty. It was the true weight of what he had done and Sang felt himself go lightheaded, vision filling with unshed tears. In pulling Felix free, the Door had read his feelings as a protective countermeasure. Rather than using his essence to fix the crystals he had instead been ejected to the human world to await the power that would signal safety. It explained the disorientation, the lack of power in his body, and his inability to sense a single Seeker in his immediate surroundings.

Sang had sealed the only family he’d ever known in a realm he could no longer get back to.

Scrambling to his feet, Sang lifted his arm and pointed it at the tree. He tried to force all of his remaining power into the stone still clinging to life in his skin. It sparked in response to his effort, a vague outline being drawn in smoke before him. The vision lasted only three seconds before Sang doubled over in pain, coughing. Drops of blood stained the dirt below him, the Seeker staring wild-eyed at his failed attempt to summon the Door. His strength had waned, powers stolen with it, and Sang couldn’t come up with a single solution. He was exposed in a dangerous world, unsure of where he even was, without anyone to consult for further options.

For the first time in his life, Sang was painfully alone.

—————— xxx —————

“You want us to infiltrate a heavily guarded facility with minimal blueprints and a dangerous bounty hunter for head of security, and you  _ don’t _ want a gun?” 

“How very human,” Yeosang responded, tone amused despite the gravity of their position.

Youngjo sighed in turn, unfolding the blueprints he’d managed to get ahold of. “We may not be human, but they certainly are, and trust me when I say they don’t care about our honor rules or whatever.” He then placed the map onto his kitchen table, Yeosang leaning over to get a better look at it. 

“I’m not saying you can’t carry one, but I would prefer not to.” Yeosang slid his hand along the smooth paper, noting where a green line had been drawn. It was an older copy, back before Empyrean’s headquarters had supposedly been remodeled nearly thirty years ago, and indicated the sewer route Youngjo had previously mentioned. He felt unease churn in his stomach; it all seemed a little too easy. 

His companion said nothing so Yeosang figured the conversation was over. Youngjo gently nudged his hand and Yeosang withdrew it, watching him unfold another set of blueprints and layer them over the first. It was the warehouse they were meant to be infiltrating, the layout just different enough to showcase the changes. The sewer led to a corner, possibly where some not so great experiments had taken place in the past. Yeosang wasn’t all that thrilled about what they might find but it had to be done. 

“The differences are subtle,” the other Seeker explained, “but enough so that we can use them to our advantage. This room used to be open concept but with the remodel, it was turned solely into storage. Assuming nothing is atop the grate, we can pop it open and slip inside. Hide behind something until we get a feel for the guards within. Then,” Youngjo paused, reaching over to a stack of papers on a nearby chair, “we have to figure out how to get into this building.” The added blueprint, unfolded before him, was newer, indicating a renovation done in the last six or so years. Yeosang swallowed as he realized the evenly spaced squares were likely mimicked prison cells. “They will be held here. The room is accessible only through this door, likely with a code or card of some kind. I’m unsure if it can be bypassed any other way, so we’ll need to swipe one once we’re inside.”

“Any information on guard rotation?” Yeosang asked.

“None,” Youngjo answered with a shake of his head. “We’ll have to feel it out once we’re in. Though I assume we won’t have too much of a window given how state of the art this facility is. I’ve counted cameras here,” his finger slid along the blueprint, “here, and here. My guess is whatever they’re using to keep them in this room, it can’t be good,” he sighed. “There are also alarm sensors everywhere; the blueprints lack indicators though. Our window of success is a small one, with the chance of that success even lower.”

Yeosang absorbed the information, flipping through the papers as he drew a mental map of their little heist. “And we have to get three extra people out of there with us.” 

“It won’t be easy.” Youngjo leaned back, eyes flicking along the opposite wall as his brain ran through endless calculations. “Not to be grim, but I’ll be surprised if we actually pull it off.”

“I would rather die freeing them than leave them in there alone.”

Youngjo’s head tilted towards him, subtle smirk on his face. “... You always get this intense aura around you when you say stuff like that.”

“Comes with being an ancient relic I guess,” he responded with a snort, staring down at the marked blueprint. “I’ve spent years running from my mistakes, Youngjo. I refuse to do it again.”

“And that’s what makes you a good leader, Yeosang.” Youngjo placed a hand on his shoulder, Yeosang meeting his eyes silently. “You got a little lost along the way. It happens. But you’re here now, trying to fix it even after all these years.”

He shook his head, attention focusing upon the stone in his wrist. It had taken a long, long time for it to reach a vibrant blue hue again, carrying the pain of what he’d done for all those years. “I gave up on them, Youngjo. I moved on, learned how to be human; I’m no leader.” Yeosang swallowed the threat of tears. “This is the only way I can even begin to atone for that.” 

“That’s proof enough, Yeosang,” Youngjo whispered. “They never blamed you.  _ I  _ never blamed you. Whether you live as Yeosang or Sang, you’re still you. Humans believe in mistakes making you a better person; there’s no reason we Seekers can’t believe in that concept too.”

Yeosang knew he was right despite the emotions simmering through him. He pushed back from the table and rose to his feet, turning his attention to the clock—11:36. “We should go. It’s now or never.”

Youngjo agreed silently, mirroring his stance and beginning to rummage around the room. He pulled some face masks from a drawer and tossed one to Yeosang, shoving the rest into his pocket. “I’ve memorized every corner of those blueprints; we won’t need to bring them with us. There are two scientists in the facility tonight according to my information, so we’ll locate one and swipe a card as carefully as we can.”

“Got it,” he said, slipping the mask over his face. “For the Orrery.”

“For the Orrery,” Youngjo echoed, aura around his body burning hotly.

Then they were outside, another factor in the moonless night, the house resonating with remnants of a broken past.

It wasn’t hard to find access to the sewer. There were sewer grates everywhere, often left unattended and uncared for. Some of them were bolted down with rusted screws, Yeosang noting that as they passed, but Youngjo had already chosen a specific entry point. There were no cameras, minimal foot traffic, and it was in a secluded area relatively close to Empyrean’s headquarters. Again, a little too easy for his tastes, but Youngjo insisted it would all work out.

_ ‘I’ve been down here before! Don’t worry!’ _

Yeosang didn’t want to know the reason why nor what his clothes likely smelled of afterwards.

It required their combined strength to move, the metal cool against his fingers. They moved it over just enough to squeeze inside but still be able to pull it back over after they were in. Yeosang went first, Youngjo insisting on it, and glared the whole way down. The rungs of the ladder were rusted and cool, their lack of use evident even within the darkness. His shoes eventually knocked against the concrete floor and he stepped away, listening to the sound of Youngjo’s own descent into the shadows. The smell hit him first, Yeosang wrinkling his nose, but at least it was bearable. His eyes could only make out the faint glow from the stones in their wrists. Hardly a light source; lucky for him, he had the Master of Light right in front of him. 

After a moment, Youngjo snapped his fingers. White light erupted from his stone, rising into a tiny ball of light. It immediately began floating around their bodies, the soft tinkling of a bell following its movements. Youngjo repeated it three more times, the lights revolving at an equal pace. 

“Let’s go.” The other Seeker’s voice lacked its usual playful tone. Yeosang followed as Youngjo began to navigate through the tunnel. They moved quietly, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the walls. He could hear water dripping somewhere along the way, bringing back memories he preferred not to unpack, and pushed on. They said nothing, coming to terms with what fate might have in store for them in their own ways.

Yeosang thought about the first time he met Felix. He had been so young, his body surrounded by swirling winds as he fought to control the power radiating through him. His eyes had been so wild, his fight or flight instincts on high alert. It had taken Yeosang stepping through those winds, covered in hundreds of tiny cuts, for Felix to understand that he was a force meant to assist. The young Seeker had been so afraid, so terrified, but Yeosang would never forget the expression on his face when he realized he no longer had to hide his true self. Felix joined him in the Orrery, safely tucked away from those who wished to harm him, and learned of his destiny as the Master of Wind. It took nearly one hundred years of prodding before Yeosang finally let Felix into his heart, and it had been nearly two thousand since he’d last heard his voice. 

Seonghwa had been the first in many years that he’d allowed through his walls … and now look where they’d ended up.

He remembered that day too, clear as crystal with all the feelings that came with it. Seonghwa had looked like shit. His eyes were tired, hair unkempt, and movements sluggish. Even in the low lighting of the bar, Yeosang noticed him immediately. Not for his appearance but rather the aura around him if he could even call it that. Rather, trace amounts of energy, clinging to him weakly. Seonghwa had noticed him too, striking up a conversation that he surprisingly enjoyed. He was knowledgeable and well-learned, managing to stay on par with Yeosang’s own facts and banter. It was so damn easy for Yeosang to fall in love with him and he quickly found himself looking forward to Seonghwa’s visits. The Seeker never made a connection between anything. Security guard made sense. Long hours because of that made sense. His disheveled state due to a friend in the hospital made sense. 

At some point, it went from the label of friend to lover, the pair of them sneaking into Yeosang’s apartment to spend the nights together. Despite how touch-starved he was, he never let his guard down; Seonghwa just had this feeling about him. Calm, trustworthy, someone you would eventually take home to family.

They hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye.

Yeosang broke free from that thought, blinking to clear the memory from view. They were still walking, Youngjo leading him around a corner, and he knew it had to be now. He lifted his hand, palm open, and aimed it at the other man’s back. His stone glowed, a tiny beam of light curling around his hand before firing from the center. It flew towards Youngjo and landed between his shoulders, sinking into him with a hiss.

His feet shuffled to a halt. Youngjo turned, his face illuminated by the light dancing around him. “Yeosang …”

“It has to be you,” he murmured, stopping as well. “If anything happens, it has to be you.”

“Yeosang ... I’m not a leader. I’m not like you.” 

Yeosang shook his head. “That’s precisely why, Youngjo. You’re not me. You’re prepared, you’re resourceful, and you never run away.”

“I left someone in there too, Yeosang; what happened isn’t just on you,” he whispered back. 

“I know, Youngjo, but that doesn’t change how certain I am. You will lead the Seekers long after I’m gone; you can do this.”

Youngjo’s brow furrowed, Yeosang watching his emotions like an open book. “... Why are you talking like this? Like you’re already dead?”

Yeosang said nothing; he didn’t need to, not when Youngjo could see the color of his aura and feel the emotions burning through their shared link.

“Y-you don’t plan on leaving,” Youngjo finally stammered, eyes wide. 

He shook his head again, averting his eyes. “I cannot say.”

“Yeosang.” His voice had leveled; he was no longer playing. “The truth. I can’t go into this final stand without knowing.”

Yeosang sighed but still refused to meet Youngjo’s eyes again. He instead kept his attention upon his stone, watching the color within swirl. “It nearly killed me to open the Door the first time, Youngjo. I did it without help, without the other stones, and it consumed every power but my own. I tried to give myself back to the cycle, to heal the broken crystals, and I failed.  _ That’s _ why everyone is trapped within the Orrery. To free them … I have to give myself completely.”

“... Is that why you chose home?” Youngjo whispered. The lights floating around him visibly dimmed, relaying his emotions. “Yeosang … you can’t just drop this on me. We need you.”

“The only difference between Sang and Yeosang is one of them hasn’t accepted he’s dead yet.” 

“This isn’t part of the plan!”

“Yes it is! You told me to find a place to go after we saved them and I did that!” He took a step forward, gently grasping one of Youngjo’s hands. “All of you needed me and I just ran away. I’ve already made up my mind, Youngjo. I’m sorry.”

The look of tired defeat that washed over Youngjo’s features twisted his heart. He looked upset even within the dim lighting of the tunnel. Yeosang’s chest felt hollow and empty; he had long since accepted what he had to do. That still didn’t make accepting the hurt in his friend’s face any easier.

“Can I ask something?” Youngjo asked softly. 

“Of course you can.”

“You, our leader, and the Four Stars … your life force is directly connected to the Door, isn’t it? Without you, it doesn’t work. Without them, it doesn’t work. So why? How?”

Breaking eye contact, Yeosang cleared his throat. He swerved around Youngjo and continued to walk, motioning for him to follow. “Someone …” he began, taking a shaky breath, “ _ Felix _ tried to stop my sacrifice. The Door consumed every connection with the crystals I had, leaving me with wisdom only. It hurt more than you know to shapeshift.” Yeosang was glad Youngjo couldn’t see his face. “I was never supposed to end up here.”

“Then … what if that’s a sign? What if you were kept alive for a reason?” 

Yeosang hadn’t considered that. Still, it didn’t deviate his feelings. _ For their heart strengthens the future … _ He still believed that in his own way. “We should hurry; we’re a little behind schedule.”

The rest of the walk was silent. Conversing so close to their target wasn’t a good idea, understandably so. Their path grew a little more difficult the closer they drew, leftover rubble and clear marks of abandoned construction guiding their way. A mess of graffiti greeted them at the tunnel’s end but Yeosang could tell from a glance alone that it was old. Rust coated the metal rungs leading up and it was clear no one had been down there in quite some time. Now that they had arrived, the truth of what they were about to do finally sank in; it was real.

Yeosang went first despite Youngjo’s quiet protests. The rungs of the ladder dug into his palms but it was a minimal price to pay, Yeosang heaving himself up to the top. He pushed on the grate above but it didn’t budge. An expected result. Replacing his hand, he focused all of his energy into the conjuration of wind. His fingertips tingled, wrist beginning to glow, before wind sucked up from the tunnel below and pushed against the grate. It rattled before popping free with an angry squeal, Yeosang shoving it out of the way. He climbed upright, poking his head from the open grate and examining his surroundings.

The warehouse was dark, the only source of light coming in the form of dim yellow overheads. They were barely enough to illuminate the stacks on stacks of boxes around the grate’s opening. He focused all of his senses, energy rippling through the ground in search of people. It came up empty, at least not within the warehouse, so Yeosang pulled himself free and scooted to the side to allow Youngjo the space to join him. They left the grate to the side to ensure a quick getaway and exchanged a knowing look. 

Their steps were silent amid the forgotten boxes, Youngjo snuffing out the lights floating around him. It was clear guards had long since given up patrolling the inside of the warehouse. With the blueprints changed and construction long completed he supposed they never saw a reason to continue. This advantage was likely to be the only one following their journey inside. Peering through one of the warehouse windows, Yeosang noted a pair of guards standing just beyond the door. Beyond them was a large expanse of open space. A courtyard, the grasses well manicured with a fountain in the center; there was no way they could run across the whole thing without being seen. 

His eyes widened and he dropped back down to Youngjo. “Two guards,” he whispered. “Let’s take them out and borrow their clothes.”

“Smart,” Youngjo whispered back. “They should have basic security clearance for all of these buildings.” 

Yeosang nodded and skirted down the length of the wall. He slowly turned the lock, hearing it click softly into position, and glanced to Youngjo. “Stick close to me.” His wrist sparked weakly, grey light erupting from it, before the air around them shimmered. Yeosang stepped outside and carefully picked his way back down to the guards on duty. They were talking about what their wives had prepared them for dinner earlier that evening. Cloaked in an illusion, they never saw it coming, but his intention was not to kill. They struck the backs of their heads with enough force to keep them down for a bit and quickly dragged them back into the warehouse.

It didn’t take long to throw their clothes on. They were a bit taller than both Yeosang and Youngjo but they made it work, feeling their pockets for the security card that would grant them access to the main building. For extra safety, they stuffed both of the guards into separate boxes and left them there, hoping the momentary disorientation when they inevitably awoke would buy them some extra time. 

Stepping back into the courtyard, they returned to the guards’ previous position and lingered there for a moment. As a precaution Youngjo had explained, just in case their post was monitored by video security. Then they started their trek across the courtyard, keeping their hats low and allowing the various dim lights to guide their path. No one else was out and about, luckily for them, and they managed to arrive at the main compound without raising suspicion. 

Youngjo led them around the side of the building. They arrived at a low window, the room inside dark. “Scarcely used office,” he explained quietly, and pulled a roll of packing tape from his pocket; it had been the only bit of physical supplies they’d brought. Youngjo tore some pieces off and stuck them to a window before creating a makeshift handle towards the bottom. He slipped one hand into it and drew the other back, fist connecting in a well measured punch. The glass shattered but stayed relatively connected to the tape and Youngjo pulled his hand back, reaching inside with the other to unhinge the window lock. 

Yeosang climbed in first, holding onto the glass as Youngjo joined him. The glass was then replaced and taped haphazardly back into place. It wasn’t meant to repair their destruction but rather to keep suspicions at bay if glanced at from afar. 

“One right, then a left, then another right, and we’ll arrive at our first security door. It should be minimal access so these cards should do,” Youngjo whispered. “A guard will be stationed there; he shouldn’t pay any attention if we swipe and go right through. After that, we’ll go all the way to the end of the hall and take a left. This will be the big kid door and on the other side will be the rest of the Seekers.”

Yeosang extended his senses following that, reaching through the ground to note everything between their current location and their destination. Four guards, walking down the hall further down, one at the station Youngjo mentioned, and the Seekers. Plus … something he didn’t quite understand. It was opposite the holding facility, humming angrily. Seeker energy with the mark of something else, something Yeosang didn’t quite recognize; it shook him to the core.

“What? Is something wrong?” Youngjo asked.

Yeosang reopened his eyes and shook his head, playing it off. “Just … anticipation,” he lied, glancing at the door. “Four guards heading this way. Let’s keep our heads low.” 

Youngjo nodded and they quickly exited the room. Being seen leaving would raise suspicion so they hurried, trying to appear normal as they walked down the hallway. The other guards passed them without incident, too engrossed in their conversation to give a damn about extra personnel wandering the halls. A blessing, because Yeosang wasn’t sure he could rein in the furiously beating of his heart. 

Passing through the guard checkpoint went as expected too. They were essentially invisible, making it through with no issue. Not that there really could be. Their presence had been near ghost-like for so long, and only Seonghwa really had an idea of what he looked like. If it was only him after Yeosang then surely he neglected to share the details surrounding his existence. A failure on Seonghwa’s part but a win for them. 

Reaching the final turn, Yeosang pulled ahead and glanced around the hall. No traces of energy remaining, meaning they had not been allowed out of the room in a long time. There was another though, fresh and unnatural, and Yeosang’s head turned towards the source. An arrow on the wall read ‘medical wing,’ and two guards stationed at the end offered clue that something,  _ someone _ , powerful was being held within. His feet moved on their own, carrying him down the hall, with Youngjo hissing a warning softly behind him. But he was firmly on autopilot, the energy sucking him in. 

“Good evening,” Yeosang greeted the two guards. “We’ve been sent here to relieve you of duty for the night.”  _ What the fuck are you doing, Yeosang? _

The guards exchanged a look. “Our shift just started, sir.”

Yeosang had to think fast. He glanced between them and the door, unable to see anything beyond. 

Behind him, Youngjo cleared his throat. “Um, orders directly from the top. Sorry fellas.”

“Who sent you?” One of them asked and Yeosang could tell their suspicion was rising.

“Seonghwa,” he answered quickly. “He asked us to take over for the rest of the evening.”

Their demeanor changed almost instantly. Straightening their backs, the guard on the left nodded. “Sorry sir, we meant no disrespect. All yours.”

Youngjo and Yeosang took up their position, holding it as they walked down the hall. He could see a camera above, luckily positioned in such a way that their faces were cast in vague shadow by their hats. 

“Yeosang, what the  _ hell  _ are you doing? The compound is the other way,” the other Seeker whispered fiercely.

“Intuition,” he replied. “Something’s in here, something I think can help us get in.”

“Damn you and your sixth sense.” Youngjo glanced back at the door. “They’re gone; we should get in before they ask questions and raise an alarm.”

Yeosang nodded his agreement and presented his stolen security badge to the sensor. It accepted it and the door slid open, the two of them taking a few steps into the room. His senses honed in on the energy track, eyes tracing the residue down the hall and into a room. He could barely see the  _ 1117 _ tacked onto the wall beside it. 

A nurse approached them, holding a clipboard delicately in her hands. “Hello, gentlemen. Can I help you?”

“Yes, um, we’ve been asked to check on the patient in room eleven seventeen. What can you tell us about them?” Yeosang replied quickly.

“Oh um,” the nurse paused, glancing towards the room in question, “this is a surprise. Is Yunho running late this evening?”

“Yes, yes he is,” Youngjo answered. “He just wants a quick report and for us to visually confirm their condition.”

The nurse contemplated their words. He assumed that, had this been an actual hospital and not a wing merely contained in Empyrean’s headquarters, there would’ve been more red flags. But lucky for them, she conceded. “Follow me. Kim Hongjoong’s progress has been stable; he should be back on his feet within the next day or so. I keep hoping Yunho can talk some sense into him, tell him to retire early, but he refuses.” She scanned her badge at the door, allowing it to swing open. “Five minutes and then I insist you return to your post. We all know how Seonghwa gets about order.”

“Five minutes, no more,” Yeosang promised, stepping inside the room. Youngjo followed and the nurse gave them both a nod, sliding past them back into the hall. The door clicked shut behind them.

Yeosang cast his eyes upon the room. It was spacious, much bigger than a single person needed. There was a table and chairs on one side with a sofa on the other, a table before it covered in board games and other trivial objects. A bed occupied the center, several machines located around it and beeping softly. Someone was lying within it, looking impossibly small against the sheets containing his body. He was watching them, expression unreadable and eyes level.

He took a step forward, Youngjo grasping his arm. “Wait, Yeosang. Something doesn’t feel right,” he whispered.

“I know. That’s why I wanted to come here.” Yeosang glanced at him. “Don’t look him in the eye. Trust me on this,” he whispered.

After a moment, Youngjo let go, and Yeosang walked over. He stopped at the end of the stranger’s bed, the aura around his body murky and cold. Yeosang could tell it was unnatural before he even started looking. His eyes traveled over his body before finally landing upon the source of that unnaturalness. It was a stone, clearly containing the essence of a Seeker, but with a note of something  _ wrong _ humming within. Youngjo realized it too, flanking his left side and staring in open-mouthed disbelief.

The stranger regarded them both, his eyes flicking down to glance at Yeosang’s clothed wrist; he knew. 

“You’re Sang,” the man said matter-of-factly. 

He gave no reaction. “And you must be Hongjoong.”

“I could feel it, you know,” Hongjoong murmured. “That you were coming.”

“Yet … you’re not one of us. You have the stone, sure,” he said, eyeing it, “but it’s … different.  _ You’re _ different.”

“You’re right, I am.” Hongjoong inhaled, his breath weezy. “There’s two of you. All five in one place … for the first time ever.”

Yeosang avoided the underlying question and instead asked one of his own. “How did you come by this?”

“Just because I’m dying doesn’t mean I’ll give you our secrets,” the man replied, chuckling softly. It devolved into a cough, the two Seekers allowing him to work through it. When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse—distant. “We made it.”

Youngjo gripped the edge of the bed. “Made it?” His head turned, their eyes meeting. 

“It’s killing you.” Yeosang stayed in place, examining the area around the stone. It looked sickly and pale and his eyes narrowed a fraction. The very sight of it made his skin crawl. “The sickness will spread, stealing all of your energy, and then you’ll die. A very slow, painful death.”

“Already at that stage, unfortunately.” Hongjoong touched the stone, wincing at the pain. “You  _ are _ Sang, right?” 

Youngjo shook his head, trying to stop him, but he ignored him anyway. “Yes, I’m Sang.”

“And you’re here to save them, right?”

“You’re either going to offer us help,” Youngjo began, “or you’re going to call our presence in.”

Hongjoong laughed again, much softer, and relaxed back into the bed. “You know? I can see things sometimes. Not of the future. I think … I think they’re memories.  _ Your _ memories.”

“And what did you see?” Yeosang asked.

“You were happy once.” The man clicked his tongue, head lolling to the side; his attention was focused on a folded pile of clothes on a table. “A friend of mine said something earlier. He told me that I was lucky to be alive, but … I don’t feel lucky.” 

Yeosang gently nudged Youngjo. His friend let go of the bed and went to the table, rummaging around in the clothing; he pulled a security badge free moments later. Scientist clearance, the perfect way to access the holding room. 

“Can you help me?” Hongjoong asked; his voice was devoid of fear.

“I cannot save you from your mistakes,” Yeosang replied, shaking his head. “I can barely atone for my own.” 

Hongjoong exhaled quietly, leaving his lips parted, and raised his hand into the air; they both focused on the source of his distress. “The person I work for is cruel and unforgiving; she won’t let you walk free if she catches you first. So go, save them and finish atoning for those mistakes.”

Yeosang nodded but didn’t offer a thank you, for their current situation would never have been a problem without him. “We are not the answer to whatever began your journey,” he murmured. “We are meant to be council, not the means to an end.”

Hongjoong kept silent.

He turned, following Youngjo back out of the room. The nurse greeted them with a friendly wave and Yeosang smiled back. They returned to their “post” just outside the doorway.

Youngjo wasted no time. “We have about a five minute window once we get inside,” he whispered. “As soon as they register that guy’s entry into the holding room, they’ll be all over it.”

“The badge must open the cages as well. If not, we’ll find another solution. Let’s go.” They began to walk, their footsteps measured to prevent suspicion. 

As they drew closer, Youngjo casually pulled Hongjoong’s security badge from his pocket. The doors were double paned glass, another door beyond the first pane. Inside the room was dim but Yeosang could see little else. 

“Now the true fun begins,” Youngjo said, laughing softly, but the sound was devoid of any true amusement. They both knew no matter what happened next, their chances of success were slim. 

Their peace with the situation had already been made.

Youngjo scanned the badge and the first door slid open. They quickly ducked inside, Yeosang counting the seconds before it slid shut. The second finally opened and allowed them access to the holding facility. Yeosang glanced up and muttered a soft curse; there was a camera in the room.

“Our window is gonna get a whole lot shorter, Youngjo. We have to hurry.” 

“I’m on it.” Youngjo ran to a nearby computer and slid into the chair. He tossed the badge Yeosang’s way. “Relay the plan quickly and see if you can find a way to free them from there.” 

Catching the badge, Yeosang went ahead. “I’ll see what I can find.” He split off from Youngjo and scanned the badge against a sensor along the far well. A door located a little to the left detached from the locks holding it and slid open. Yeosang hurried inside and subsequently felt his heart drop.

The room was unnaturally white and clean, the air within feeling so stale and artificial it practically scraped along his skin. Six cells, three on each side, front side lined with bars meant to keep them on permanent display. There were two people on the left, their cells on opposite sides, with another in the middle on the right. They looked to him nearly in unison and Yeosang allowed his senses to extend now that he was closer. One of Lightning, one of Earth, and one of Fire.

Yeosang’s heart sank. One of Fire … There had not been another of flame since Hwanwoong had become trapped within the Orrery.  _ Did that mean …? _ No, Yeosang couldn’t have those thoughts, not then. He swallowed his fears and crossed to the nearest cage, containing the one of Lightning. 

“What’s your name?” Yeosang asked.

“U-um. San. Choi San,” the young Seeker answered, moving to the edge of the cage.

“Who are you?” Another voice asked—the one on the end.

“My name is Yeosang, and I’m here with another to free you. Do you have any idea how these cages work?”

“They have some kind of barrier on them,” the third and final voice explained. “We can’t use our powers or whatever you call them.”

Yeosang glanced at him. “Your stone; it’s the source of your power. I can explain later.” There was an outline of a door in each cell but he could tell from a glance that they hadn’t been opened in awhile. There was no sensor or keyhole, meaning they were likely opened from the computers Youngjo was currently fiddling with. “How long have you all been here?”

“Months, I think,” the Seeker of Earth replied. “Likely years. I’m … Wooyoung, by the way, and that’s Mingi over there. Who are you?”

“I told you, my name is Yeosang,” he answered, glancing at the window in the door; Youngjo met his eyes and shrugged.

“Your name, yes, but  _ who _ ,” Mingi asked. “You’re … one of us right?”

Yeosang hesitated for only a moment before finally nodding. “I’m … your leader, and I’m here to make things right—to take all of you to a place where you can finally learn who you truly are.”

“No cages?” San breathed. “We can finally know how to control t-these things?” The stone in his wrist caught an overhead light, glaring brightly in Yeosang’s face.

“Yes, and for that to happen, I’ll need all of you to listen to me. My friend, a fellow Seeker, is trying his best to get these cages open. What I need from you is information if you can provide it. Has a scientist ever come in here holding a journal? His name might be Hongjoong?”

“Lately we’ve only been visited by Dr. Jeong. Uh, Yunho is his name,” Mingi said. “He carries two journals usually. One of them is on the older side, kinda looks like antique leather.”

_ A start! _ Yeosang went to examine Mingi’s cage, trying to keep the flood of emotions crashing through him steady. His aura was bright and burning, reminding him so much of the short-tempered Master of Fire he had once known. He reached out to touch the bars and immediately jerked his hand back, hissing at the purple crackle of electricity. 

“They’ve kept you locked in here like  _ animals _ ,” he spat softly. It was worse than he had imagined, the void of guilt in his stomach only growing deeper. “Where is this Yunho usually found when he’s not here? Even just a basic idea will work.”

“Likely the main laboratory,” Wooyoung replied, and Yeosang moved on to his cage. The energy surrounding his pale frame was dark green. “He’s a hard worker. If he’s anywhere,” he sighed, “he’ll be in there.”

Yeosang didn’t reply at first, taking his time in examining Wooyoung’s face. His eyes were tired and his face bore the evidence of his captivity. Still, he recognized the aura, and Yeosang’s smile was soft. The soul before him, Wooyoung, had managed to carry on the cycle he’d thought broken so long ago; he had replaced Yvonne as the new Master of Earth. Wooyoung was likely the reason Empyrean had installed power restricting barriers. If his theory was correct, they had no idea just how powerful of a Seeker they’d had in their possession for all that time.

A loud beep suddenly echoed throughout the room and the cage doors popped. Yeosang didn’t miss a beat, yanking it the rest of the way open so Wooyoung could escape. The other two, San and Mingi, did the same and he motioned for them to follow him back into the main part of the holding room. He scanned Hongjoong’s badge again and dipped into the computer room. 

Youngjo greeted them with a nod. “Name’s Youngjo, and we don’t have a lot of time. Thirty seconds before they realize the camera feed was paused and raise an alarm.”

Yeosang nodded and motioned for the young Seekers to move closer. “As he said, this is Youngjo. He’s trustworthy and reliable. Follow him and listen to his every order; he’ll get you out of here.”

“Yeosang,” his friend tentatively warned.

“I have to get the journal back, Youngjo. If I don’t, they’ll never stop hunting us; all of our secrets are in their hands.”

“The reclaim of a single journal isn’t gonna throw them off our trail!” Youngjo hissed. “You’ve spent the last few years trying to  _ live _ , Yeosang; you can’t throw away your life for some paper!”

“I have to do this,” he replied firmly. “I’ve made up my mind, Youngjo, and you can’t stop me.” Yeosang turned his head, examining the faces of the Seekers they’d just rescued. “We have to stop something like this from ever happening again.”

“We can’t open the Door without you, Yeosang,” Youngjo whispered, genuine fear within his voice. 

“You can when you become leader. You have more strength than you’ve ever given yourself credit for, Youngjo.” Yeosang reached out, gently patting the other Seeker’s shoulder. “I’ll try to get back to you but I can’t promise anything. Get them to safety … and don’t come back for me.”

Youngjo knew what that implied and the pain measured itself among the depths of his pretty brown eyes. Had they stayed in the sanctuary, had life not taken the direction it did, Yeosang knew he would have eventually ended up another part of Felix and his relationship. He had always been a good soul, free of darkness and full of love; he would make an excellent leader.

An alarm began to blare overhead, signaling the end of their peace, and Youngjo affixed his gaze upon his new charges. “Alright kiddos, stick close to me; it’s time to learn how to control all that pent up energy inside of you.”

Yeosang scanned the badge at the door and the ruffled little group shuffled inside, followed swiftly by the second one. Youngjo went first before motioning for them to follow, and he stepped out beside him. 

A gunshot from his left sent his ears ringing, shock and adrenaline pumping through him, and Yeosang watched in slow motion as blood spattered along the opposite wall. Youngjo met his eyes, wide and terrified, and he understood what had happened. He fell to his knees, Yeosang turning to see the four guards from earlier down the hall. They were yelling something, their mouths moving but Yeosang could not hear a single thing above the ringing in his ears and the painful press of Youngjo’s aura against him.

His wrist burned hotter than the sun, and Yeosang’s mind and body moved on their own.


	5. panacea

“Your son will be well taken care of, Mrs. Song. Our facility is state of the art, perfect for teaching young adults how to control these … impulses.”

Mingi scoffed, fingers playing along the bandage on his wrist. “I don’t need a  _ facility _ .”

“You’ll cure him?” His mother murmured softly. “We just … can’t take another arson.”

“I told you that wasn’t my fault,” he hissed, but his mother ignored him. The man she was conversing with glanced in his direction. He was tall, though a smidgeon shorter than Mingi himself, with dark hair, a handsome face, and charismatic aura. Mingi had no idea what his name was. He just knew that his purpose, no matter what kind of convincing it took, was to pull him from his home and take him far, far away.

“We’re trained for this, I assure you. All I need is consent to remove him from the home.” He pushed a document across the table, Mingi watching out of the corner of his eye.

After a minute or two of silent contemplation, she plucked a pen from the table. Her sigh was heavy, like that would atone for what she was about to do, and brought it down upon the page. “I’m sorry, Mingi. They can do more for you there than we can ever do for you here.” Then she signed it, her shoulders slumped in exhaustion and face wrought with the weight of pain Mingi had caused her over the past few months.

He rubbed at his temple, expression downcast. Mingi had known this was coming ever since the day he turned sixteen. The strange gemstone that had manifested in his wrist, dark as fresh blood, had ruined his life. There was little he could do to control whatever power it had granted him and his mother had only grown to deny what was happening. Fires were set whenever he lost control of his emotions, and his parents had paid a lot of money to cover up the damages of his outbursts. Mingi wasn’t surprised they had finally grown tired of him; he had just hoped to achieve an age viable of leaving home before it happened. Now he was getting his rights signed away to some facility hundreds of miles away with little hope of ever getting to go home again.

It sucked, for lack of a better phrase, and it hurt more than he would ever admit.

Mingi’s fingers played along the bandage for a second time, feeling the bulge of the stone beneath. Maybe, if he managed to understand what was wrong with him, he would be allowed to go home early. Maybe if he did get a cure, his life would go back to normal, and he could move into some big city and become a nameless face in a crowd. To a place where no one feared him or his outbursts, where things didn’t spontaneously combust with a light touch.

He could become a  _ normal _ again.

All that changed when Mingi exited the only place he’d ever called home with the mystery man. He was restrained by several people and forced to the ground, his arms chained behind his back and a strange device mimicking a muzzle being shoved over his face. Mingi panicked, yelled for his mom to come rescue him, but she was nowhere to be found; her right to intervene had been signed away with the paper tucked neatly in the stranger’s briefcase. Treated like an animal and power sealed, Mingi could do little else than go with those who had masterfully executed his imprisonment.

And his hatred only grew as his life went from the prison of a mansion to a prison of white walls.

—————— xxx —————

His ears were ringing. He could hear someone shouting in the distance, the loud blare of an overhead alarm sounding muted against his eardrums. Yeosang looked down. His hands were trembling, palms stained in blood. Through the disorientation, he knew it wasn’t his own.

_ Then who ..? _

He looked through his hands. Yeosang’s face fell as it began to piece itself back together. There were bodies at his feet, one of them rocking back and forth. A tiny pool of blood had begun to form beneath another and Yeosang stumbled back in realization of what he’d done. His body had moved without pause, his mind overcome with grief because of …

Yeosang whipped around in a frantic search for Youngjo. He was lying on the ground, Wooyoung checking him over while San was trying to get his attention. His lips were moving but Yeosang could hear nothing over the ringing in his ears, still lost in a sea of mild confusion. “Youngjo.” His voice was distant, reverberating through his skull. Yeosang stumbled towards them, Mingi catching his arm as he fell before helping guide him to Youngjo’s side.

The world sucked back in, the ringing finally beginning to settle, and Yeosang finally regained his wits. He ran his hands over Youngjo’s side, the man’s face screwed up in pain. Youngjo was clutching his shoulder, hyperventilating despite Wooyoung’s attempts to calm him down. Blood was leaking into the security uniform he was wearing, staining the fabric and continuing to spread. Judging from the pool below his body, Yeosang inferred that the bullet had passed clean through. That was a good thing he tried to remind himself.

“F-fuck, this hurts!” Youngjo groaned. 

“Hey, look at me,” Yeosang said, trying to get his attention upon him. His eyes were wild, flicking frantically around his face. “Wooyoung, look at me.”

Wooyoung did so, his hands hovering above the wound. “What do we do?”

“Your power is one half of a whole. I can offer the other and we can at least stop the bleeding,” he explained, placing his hand upon Wooyoung’s. “Hold it here and just think of, like, mending a tear in a leaf.”

Youngjo pushed weakly at their hands and groaned. “Just go! Find another way out! I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not leaving you behind,” he replied.

“You … you’ve spent days trying to convince me why it’s a good thing to let you go,” he chuckled breathily. “Now it’s your turn to do the same, Yeosang.”

“I-I can’t, Youngjo, not like this.” Yeosang pushed his hand away and repositioned Wooyoung’s and his own back over the wound. 

The man laughed again, his eyes wet with tears. “That’s hypocritical and you know it.”

Yeosang didn’t humor him again, instead turning his attention to Wooyoung. “Think of the leaf.” He closed his eyes, pushing through his feelings and the subtle ringing lingering in his ears, and focused on the light green feeling of health. It was warm and gentle, curling down his palm and colliding with Wooyoung’s intense energy. Yeosang reopened his eyes and watched the light twine together, fusing into a single one as it radiated over Youngjo’s wound. The latter groaned, his breathing beginning to calm as they quickly repaired the damage. It wasn’t meant to heal all the damage but it was superficial enough to keep him going.

He stumbled back a moment later, panting to catch his breath. “Well that’s not gonna get any easier.”

“You’ll only get weaker if you keep doing that,” Youngjo whispered. “Save your strength.”

“We promised to do this together,” he replied, using the wall to pull himself onto his feet, “and I’m gonna make sure we see it through.”

“We’ll help, if we can,” San said.

Yeosang helped Youngjo to his feet, the other wincing in pain and immediately grasping his shoulder. “I know it hurts but you shouldn’t touch it. We have to go now otherwise our exit’s gonna get cut.” 

“Right, right, let’s go.” Youngjo pushed by him, one arm hanging limply at his side. “We’ll have to squeeze out the back and cut across the north wall.” The sound of boots tapping against tile echoed down the hall and the two of them exchanged a look. “Scratch that, different plan.”

“Different plan?” Mingi asked.

Yeosang shoved them in the opposite direction, pointing to a door at the end of the hall. “We run. Go!” They hurried towards it, Yeosang taking up the rear and Mingi helping Youngjo along. Their auras were confused and disoriented. Where normally they swirled at an even space around them, the light now jerked unnaturally in its place; their fear was evident.

San reached the door first, yanking on the handle. It didn’t budge, a shout greeting them from their previous position. Yeosang shoved between them, flinging Hongjoong’s badge up to the sensor, and herded everyone through the open door. It was another hall, longer than the last, with way too many doors to choose from. He had to make a decision and fast, his mind racing to come up with a solution. Lip trembling, he glanced from left to right, before finally succumbing to his instincts and allowing them to guide. Down the hall, around another corner, before it opened up into a room mimicking a lobby. No, an office, the cubicles granting the illusion of a regular business even though it was far from it. Still, that gave Yeosang an idea, and he pointed down the center of them.

“To the storage room! We can use the filing cabinets for a blockade!” He relayed quickly.

“It’ll cut us off,” Youngjo countered, head whipping around. “We should find an office with a window and break through to the outside.” 

“Just trust me,” he insisted.

“You have a plan,” said Wooyoung.

“Yes, now go!” Yeosang slipped Hongjoong’s badge back into his pocket and grabbed an office chair, shoving it towards the door. He only had time for one more before flashlight beams threaded through the hall. The Seeker whipped around and ran down the center of the room, reaching the storage room just in time. Yeosang shut it quickly behind him, eyes taking catalogue of the room they were in. A bit smaller than he anticipated but full of boxes and cabinets. “Grab anything heavy, we need to stack them.”

They quickly got to work, minus Youngjo, and piled a mix of filing cabinets, storage boxes, and one of the printers in the way. Yeosang instructed them to leave the office chair and stepped back, glancing around the room for the next part of his plan. Pounding on the door startled them but their efforts to open the door were hinged by the pile of nonsense beyond it. 

“What now? Where do we go?” San asked.

He pointed at the ceiling, every pair of eyes moving to follow. “Into the vents. We’ll use them to navigate into a separate part of the compound and go from there.” Yeosang cleared his throat softly. “Can you handle that Youngjo?”

“I think so. I should be fine,” Youngjo answered.

“Alright. Mingi.” The boy perked up at his name being called. “Fire is a volatile stone. It has a mind of its own and craves to be free, not controlled, but I know you can do this. I need you to melt the bolts keeping that grate in place and then we can work on getting everyone up.”

Mingi wheeled the chair over, visibly nervous at what had just been asked of him. “I don’t know if I can control it that well.”

“All you have to do is visualize what you want to happen and your stone will listen,” he insisted. “I know the situation is stressful right now but you have to try otherwise this is the end of us.”

His aura flickered, Mingi swallowing his nerves, and climbed into the chair with San and Wooyoung’s help. He lifted his hand to the ceiling and placed two fingers against one of the bolts. Mingi glanced at him one more time before closing his eyes. His aura burned into a visible barrier, bright and hot. A red bubble rose from Mingi’s wrist before sliding up to his fingers and melting the area beneath it with incredible heat. He reopened his eyes, excitement bright in face.

“I told you it would work,” Yeosang encouraged. “Now focus on knocking out the rest so we can get out of here.” Mingi’s nod was cut short as someone pounded on the door, Yeosang’s attention swiveling towards it. “Hurry; we’re running out of time.”

There were hushed voices beyond, someone speaking urgently with whoever happened to be upon the other side. Yeosang stepped closer, straining to hear what was being said, but the conversation was over just as quickly as it started.

“Yeosang!” A familiar voice demanded. “I know you’re in there!”

His mouth parted, eyes widening as his gaze focused upon the handle. Yeosang said nothing but he knew Seonghwa had overheard his voice already. He was a smart man. He likely knew the room was a deadend. Their only hope relied on the likely forgotten overhead ducts.

“You have nowhere to go, Yeosang. Better to give yourselves up now than allow us to storm in,” Seonghwa continued.

Mingi got to work melting the second one behind his back.

“Do you know how much work went into trying to save him?” The man shouted. “How many unspeakable things have happened in this place to ensure his survival?”

The second bolt was freed, Mingi gasping; Yeosang could feel the uncertainty of his flames.

“I’m just trying to save my friend,  _ Sang! _ Just like you!” There was a note of desperation in his tone and some part of him sympathized with what Seonghwa’s goals were. 

But Yeosang had learned—he had grown.

“The difference between us is simple, Seonghwa,” he replied, glancing at Mingi as he struggled to keep his hands still for the third bolt. “My selfishness was to save  _ all  _ of my people; your selfishness is for a single soul.”

Silence, and then, “I can’t handle seeing him in that bed anymore, Yeosang! Please …”

Mingi hissed softly as he managed to burn through the fourth and final bolt. He lowered the grate to San, who took it and set it upon the ground as lightly as he could manage. Yeosang motioned for them to go up, Mingi cupping his hand to boost San in first, and he knew he’d need to keep talking to buy them some extra time.

“He could get up from that bed at any time, Seonghwa. You should ask him for the truth, see if he finally comes clean,” he said. San scrambled into the vent, the sound of his voice masking the small bang of his knee along one wall.

“Don’t lie to me!” Seonghwa shouted. “You didn’t watch him wither into a husk!” 

“I don’t have to in order to know what he really is,” the Seeker yelled back. Both Wooyoung and Mingi combined their strength to help Youngjo up, San pulling him in with labored gasps and a groan of pain from the poor man.

“You don’t know anything about him!” The man on the other side of the door pleaded. “He’s a good person, someone I love, someone I would lay my life down for …  _ I need him! _ ”

“And what of me, Seonghwa?” Yeosang’s shoulders dropped, grateful he had turned his back to the other Seekers; he didn’t think he could mask his pain in that moment. “Did you know all along? Was our relationship just a ruse to get me to trust you?”

A telling silence, interrupted only by the door, spanned between them.

“I didn’t know,” Seonghwa admitted at last. “What I said that night … I know part of me still means it. I do love you, Yeosang. I do.”

“But not enough to let me go,” he murmured, barely audible through the barrier separating them. He looked to Mingi who was struggling with trying to get himself into the vent. Yeosang lifted his hand, giving him a small burst of wind beneath his feet to finish propelling him up. Mingi motioned for him to hurry but he hesitated for a moment. “You’ll kill us,” Yeosang said after a moment; his eye contact with Mingi never broke. “None of them are of the Four Stars and I am but a shadow of the great leader I used to be. The price to save him, Kim Hongjoong, would consume all of us.” Yeosang once again focused on the door, knowing Seonghwa was looking at the exact same place he was. “Four innocent souls for the price of one.”

“Yeosa—”

“The darkness within him is there against his will, but not in the way you assume it to be,” he continued. “It has been curable from the moment it first consumed him.”

“W .. what are you saying?” Seonghwa asked weakly.

“Go to him and you will have your answers.” Yeosang finally retreated to the chair and popped into it, conjuring more wind to push him up to the vent; Mingi helped him inside and he sent the chair flying into a corner. “And trust me when I tell you: do not look into his eyes.”

—————— xxx —————

_ His voice is further away … _

“Get that door down!” Seonghwa motioned for his fellow guards to move in. They got to work smashing the hinges free from the doorframe. If they couldn’t bust through, they’d have to tear the door down instead. The banging against the hinges lasted only a few moments before they were free, the team on the opposite side pulling it so it landed flat against the office floor. 

Seonghwa moved in first, the weight of his gun heavy. He peered around the corner, gun raised, and subsequently sighed. Beyond the makeshift barricade was nothing; they were gone. Keeping it raised, he examined the room for clues and his eyes zeroed in on the grate lying upon the floor. Lying beside it was the crumpled lanyard from a security badge. They had been color coded months ago to prevent the accidental exchange in the breakroom. It was red, indicating it belonged to a scientist, and Seonghwa’s heart dropped.

His head craned back, locating where the grate had fallen from. “ _ Shit. _ They’re in the vents!” Seonghwa pointed to the other team leader, a woman named Eunha, and motioned for her to go. “Figured out every exit possible and post guards there. I need to go check on something.”

“Sir?” Eunha questioned.

“They have Hongjoong’s badge,” he explained, pushing by her. “He’s bedridden. I have to make sure he isn’t hurt.”

“Right now? Sir!” She attempted to follow him but Seonghwa waved her back.

“You just figure out where that vent goes and get people there! I’ll be right back!” Seonghwa yelled over his shoulder. He didn’t give her a chance to respond and ran back down the way they’d come, skirting around the guards and nurses tending to the four that had been injured. Not killed, Seonghwa had noted upon arrival, but injured. They’d found a trail of blood in the opposite direction as well, one of them barely conscious when he admitted they’d fired a live round. Seonghwa had chastised them; they needed the Seekers alive.

The run to the medical wing was agonizing. Dread built in his stomach, hotter and hotter. Seonghwa knew, rationally, that Yeosang wasn’t the type to hurt someone without purpose. ( _ Do you really though, Seonghwa? You barely knew him at all before this. _ ) The others though, the Seekers they had caged like animals for months, perhaps they would not be so forgiving. But to get to them, they would’ve needed Hongjoong’s badge … So then Hongjoong would likely still be in bed, fine as could be—which further meant that they either subdued him or the scientist made the choice not to raise an alarm.

_ ‘The things I’ve done … it’s no wonder my life is like this.’ _

Was this Hongjoong’s attempt at retribution? 

Pushing through the doors, Seonghwa rushed by the counter and left the confused receptionist standing there. He threw open the door to Hongjoong’s room and felt his heart drop. His bed was empty, heart monitor still and silent, but there were no signs of a struggle. The nurses looked fine as well, indicating that Hongjoong had not gone with Yeosang. He ducked back out and arrived back at the counter; the receptionist lifted a hand before he could speak.

“He said he was going to the main lab and to tell you he’s sorry,” she explained quickly. “It was the quickest I’ve seen him move in months.”

Seonghwa nodded. “Thank you. Sorry about the additions to the infirmary.” 

“I just hope there’s no one else this evening.”

He hesitated at the exit, hand gripping the frame with more force than necessary. “Yeah,” Seonghwa said, “me too.” Then he was gone, racing down the hall. If Hongjoong was going to the main lab then that likely meant Yeosang was heading there too; he had to get there first.

—————— xxx —————

“I’ve got it,” Youngjo insisted, his voice echoing down the vent. 

Even at the other end, Yeosang could still hear how labored his breath was. He noticed the drops of blood a moment later, pausing to examine it. “Youngjo, your wound has reopened.”

“A little blood never stopped me before,” he laughed in response, “and it certainly won’t stop me now.” 

Yeosang grit his teeth but let it go, even if the little drops of blood along their way only raised his own blood pressure. 

“There’s a bend up here. Left or right?” Wooyoung called out.

“Uh …” He tried to extend his senses but the metal of the vents could not carry his aura. Yeosang tried to recall the blueprints they’d examined but the main laboratory and shuffling through vents had not been part of the plan. Right would lead towards the infirmary he assumed. Left … well, they had no measure for that. Yeosang wasn’t fond of dipping into even more unfamiliar territory but their options were already limited. 

“You guys go right, see if you can find a way out,” Yeosang finally replied. “I’m gonna try left and see if I can find the lab.”

“And get us to leave you behind?” Youngjo snorted. “Absolutely not.”

“Why are you so stubborn?”

“Learned from the best,” the other Seeker chuckled. “Together means together, Yeosang; you won’t get me to leave no matter how hard you try.”

He sighed quietly. Once Youngjo made up his mind, there was no changing it. He motioned for their journey to carry on. They continued along their shoddy escape route for another minute or so before Mingi abruptly stopped. Yeosang knocked into him, whispering a soft _ sorry, _ before Youngjo peered back. 

“Another grate,” he whispered.

“What can you see?” Yeosang whispered back.

Youngjo turned back, lifting his head to try and see through the bars. “Another storage room. What do we do?”

“Mingi, can you squeeze up there and melt the edges? We won’t be able to get at the bolts from this side, so it’s important you focus your flames at all times.”

“On it,” he replied, carefully maneuvering up and along San and Wooyoung. They shuffled back to make room, Youngjo sagging against Wooyoung for a moment to relax. He had done a good job so far masking the pain but it was clear it had begun taking a toll on him. 

Mingi made quick work of the grate, showing just how much he’d mastered his stone already. His precision was accurate and he slid his fingers into the slats to keep hold of it, lest it fall to the ground and alert anyone beyond. He slid out first, landing with a louder impact than they wanted, but no one raised an alarm. Mingi helped Youngjo down next, followed by Wooyoung, and then San. 

Yeosang followed last, wasting no time in creeping towards the storage room door. He lifted his hands and placed his fingertips upon the cool metal. It hummed with energy, clueing him in on another badge entry—useless on their end. Unless …

“San, come here,” he murmured.

San flanked his left, glancing at him nervously. “Yes?”

“Place your hand on the door,” Yeosang said. “Do you feel the hum?”

The other Seeker did as he was told, nodding after a moment. “What do you want me to do?”

“Electricity, just like fire, is wild and unpredictable. Even the Master of Lightning has trouble controlling it so don’t worry about getting it perfect,” he explained. “What I need you to do is locate the sensor on the other side and fry it.”

“Okay um, just give me a moment,” San replied sheepishly. “And um … you may wanna step back.”

“Don’t worry about me; I’ll help if it gets out of control,” Yeosang reassured, giving him a gentle pat on the back.

San nodded again and focused his attention upon his wrist. The ground itself began to hum as he gathered the energy required for what he was about to do, yellow sparks popping and zipping from beneath his feet. It shot up his legs, wrapping around his back and sparking from his neck and ears. San closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, the lightning suddenly gathering into his chest before crackling along his arm. It sank into the door and out of sight, Yeosang impressed with how naturally the conjuration came to San. Lightning crackled again, forcing San to stumble away from the door. His eyes flew open, irises gold and wild. Yeosang grasped his wrist and covered his stone, breaking the Seeker’s connection with it and allowing the excess energy to pass into his own body.

“You did great,” Yeosang said after a moment. “Good job.” He let go of San’s wrist and assumed his previous position, slowly turning the door handle. Yeosang extended his senses through the door, the action taking far more energy than it should’ve, and counted a single body in the room. He nudged the door the rest of the way open, thanking their maintenance crew for the lack of squeaky hinges, before stepping into the impressive laboratory. Yeosang had to admit, it was quite a formidable room.

The room itself had two stories, three if you could count the small sunken area in the center; it contained a rather large looking table, lights dancing across its surface. Computers and desks consumed every wall, each station likely in use during a normal work day. Their screens were relatively dark aside from one, the desk occupied by the mystery soul his aura had revealed. To his right were metal stairs leading to a platform of similar material that skirted the wall all the way to another staircase on the opposite side. Books of every color and binding were shoved immaculately in built-in bookcases, a door near the center leading to some other room. 

Yet, somehow, Yeosang had a feeling what he was looking for wouldn’t be found on any of those shelves. 

“That’s Yunho, the other head scientist,” San whispered very quietly, so much so that Yeosang thought he misheard. 

Yeosang eyed the scientist warily. His back was to their entry and no alarm blaring within, which worried him deeply. Was this a trap? How could the alarms not be echoing in the chamber meant to contain every folder of their company’s research? 

Then Yeosang spotted it, sitting neatly on a stack of books on Yunho’s desk. Older now, worn even from where he was standing, but still permeated with his own aura. It had been a long time since Yeosang had laid eyes upon that journal, cast down into an abandoned cave and left to rot at the hands of time. Perhaps if he had destroyed it instead their lives would never have been uprooted.

“Wait here,” he said after a moment, knowing they were still on a time limit. Yeosang didn’t linger, knowing Youngjo would attempt to argue. He crept across the room, sneaking up behind the scientist. His approach was going well until his shoe caught one of the chairs, sending it into the edge of one of the desks. 

Yunho whipped around, trying to process where the noise had come from. He was wearing headphones, which explained the lack of awareness towards the alarm. Tearing them free at the sight of him, Yunho stood up and snatched the journal, rounding the desk so he could back away towards one of the large monitors. 

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Yeosang hurriedly said. “I just want the journal and then I’ll be gone.”

Yunho shook his head, taking another step back. “... I can’t do that.”

Yeosang lifted his hands, hoping to show that he lacked a weapon. “The journal and then we’re gone. Please; it belongs to me.”

The scientist’s eyes visibly shifted between Yeosang’s face and the now visible stone in his right wrist. Everything clicked into place a few seconds later. “W-wait, you’re Sang! This journal spoke of you like you were dead!”

“Sang  _ is _ dead,” he replied, allowing Yunho to crowd himself against the monitors. He held out his hand, the space between them short. “The book, Yunho.” Yeosang heard a shout in the distance, signaling that their window of time was running out. 

“There’s still so much I haven’t translated, so much I haven’t read,” Yunho pleaded. “Stay here and let me ask you some questions. Our goal isn’t to hurt you guys, just to learn about you!”

“Tell that to the guard who shot one of us,” Yeosang replied. His voice held no malice but the intent was still present. “I don’t want to hurt you, not when Seonghwa clearly loves you, but I need that book.” The stone began to glow, frost gathering at his feet. “And I’m done asking.” It shot across the floor, catching Yunho’s feet and cementing them firmly to the laboratory floor. Yunho gasped, trying to yank himself free from the element that had grasped him, but it did him no good. Yeosang closed the gap between them quickly and wrestled the book from Yunho’s hands before turning to race back towards their entrypoint. 

He was suddenly startled by the laboratory doors busting open, Seonghwa stumbling through them. Yeosang grit his teeth and dodged around the table in the room. 

“Run!” He shouted at the others.

Youngjo pointed at a door previously hidden between several computers. They braced themselves to run for it, Yeosang using the handrail for the sunken section of the room to jerk himself around the opposite direction. His plan of escape was cut short, however, as the sound of a gun firing blasted loud enough to hurt his eardrums. Something wrapped around his body, heavy and tight, and Yeosang’s shoulder hit the ground painfully. Electricity crackled along the ropes of the net now holding him hostage before shocking him. His scream of pain echoed throughout the room, catching the attention of the others. It was unlike the sparks San had generated. This was angry and evil, serving only one purpose, and it tore him apart from the inside. Yeosang could do nothing but writhe within the painful contraption around him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, it stopped.

Yeosang sagged against the floor, panting and drooling s disorientation gripped him firmly. He watched through glazed eyes as guards burst into the room from their chosen escape, pointing their guns at everyone. One by one, from Youngjo to Wooyoung, they dropped onto their knees, hands upon their heads. He tried to tell them to fight back, to run while they could, but all he could manage was pained groans as the electricity finished crackling around inside his body.

Seekers had only one weakness after all; their loyalty to each other.

“My, my, now this is certainly a surprise,” a voice called out nearby. It was distorted, lost in the background of his surroundings, but Yeosang could still hear it. “The leader of this merry bunch, hand-delivering himself right to my doorstep. How fun!” He was rolled onto his side by a shoe, a woman he recognized as Empyrean’s CEO standing over him. “Or should I say, right into my  _ home _ .”

She was a beautiful woman, long dark hair immaculately taken care of. Her nails were freshly painted, make-up light but enough to accentuate the parts of her face she wished for them to. A black jacket covered a long red dress, fabric sparkling in the glow of computer screens. It was clear she had not intended to be there that evening.

“My name is Mia Zhao, and I’ve been waiting for this day for a very long time,” she chuckled. “You’re Sang, I presume?”

Yeosang’s strength was returning; he gave the net around his body an experimental push.

Mia clicked her tongue, the heel of her shoe digging into his thigh. “Now, now, none of that my dear. We wouldn’t want you to be shocked again, would we?” The defiance in his eyes must’ve been enough to call for punishment. She withdrew her foot with a mocking smile. “Aw, that’s too bad.” Mia lifted a remote, glancing at it. “Guess I get to do this again.” 

A button was pushed, a new round of electricity crackled through his body. There was no scream this time, Yeosang’s back arching from the laboratory floor as his hands curled into fists. It was long and painful, but he would take the pain a thousand times over if it meant protecting everyone else.

“What … what do you want?” He gasped once his torture concluded. 

Mia crossed her arms, lips pursing. “Want? Why, it’s simple! Open this magical doorway of yours and then you can all go home!” She glanced to the other Seekers, likely trying to puzzle something out. After a moment, she appeared to understand. “ _ Or _ I’ll torture your little friend with the shoulder wound until you do. Nice and slow for everytime you say no …”

“Don’t do it, Yeosang!” Youngjo gasped. “I can handle it!”

Yeosang shivered at Youngjo’s mistake; he had just handed over his name.

“Yeosang, hm?” Mia said. “An interesting name, though not one  _ I _ would’ve chosen.”

“Good thing it’s not for you,” he spat defiantly. 

He was shocked again, shorter this time, but still enough to leave him gasping.

“U-um, Ma’am, permission to speak,” someone said—Yunho.

Mia’s attention turned away from him, her annoyance clear in her face. “What is it, scientist.”

Yeosang’s head lolled to the other side, taking in Yunho’s face. He had been broken free from the ice and was standing next to Seonghwa, the latter of whom had his gaze averted; he couldn’t even bear to watch what he was going through … nor help.

“W-well … from what I’ve understood, you need all five of them to open the Door. He can’t do it on his own,” Yunho explained. 

Seonghwa spoke before she could. “He said something earlier. That they’ll all die if they try it.”

Mia smiled but there was no amusement, no happiness, no light within it. She dropped her arms and instead motioned towards the journal lying a little ways away from his hand. “You think you’re the only person I ever hired to give that thing a read? I’ve only kept you here because of your connection with Kim Hongjoong.” The woman looked back to him and Yeosang could immediately tell that she knew. “He can open it all on his own. In fact, he’s already done it,” she laughed. “How do you think he got here? Luck?”

“N-no!” Youngjo gasped. “That’ll kill him!” 

“Enough, Youngjo,” Yeosang murmured, meeting his eyes; they were filled with fear. He shook his head and then looked to Mia once again. “If I do this, will you let them go?”

“I make the decisions here, my dear,” Mia said. “And if I only need you to open the Door then, well, I have no use for the rest of your little friends, do I?”

Yeosang felt the world zero in around him. He rolled himself up, baring his teeth in anger. His need to protect overpowered any other instinct. “Don’t you  _ dare _ touch them!”

Mia nodded to the guard standing behind Youngjo. The guard drew their hand back before slamming the butt of their gun into the wound in his shoulder. Youngjo cried out, doubling over, and Yeosang strained hard against his bindings. 

“Stop it!” He demanded.

“Then you need to open the Door, and you need to do it now, on  _ my _ terms.” He remained silent, trying to catch his breath. Mia raised her hand again, motioning to the guard behind Youngjo. 

“Alright, enough!” Yeosang scrambled. “I’ll do it. Just leave them alone.”

“Y-yeosang,” Youngjo gasped. “It’ll kill you!”

“I know,” he whispered, “but I would rather give my life for my mistakes than allow those who had nothing to do with them to perish on my behalf. Not again.” His head tilted back, the submission in his face heartbreaking. “Free me from this net and I’ll do what you ask of me.”

She eyed him for a moment, likely trying to understand if his words were a ruse, before he finally gave the order to let him go. “Seonghwa, cut them free.”

_ How cruel. _

Seonghwa came over almost instantly, dropping to his knees beside him. He tried to catch Yeosang’s gaze but he purposely kept his attention upon the floor. The net was sliced free, freeing Yeosang from its hold, and tossed away.

“Up on your feet,” Mia demanded.

Seonghwa offered him a hand but Yeosang refused, standing up on his own. His feet were unstable, knees shaking in the aftermath of his torture, and his vision held a blurry hue around the edges. None of that could slow him down, however; he needed to focus. Seonghwa backed away, returning to his position beside Yunho, and Yeosang realized his window had been opened. It would consume the rest of the energy he’d intaken from San but it was their best shot at getting out. 

Keeping his wrist turned towards his thigh, he funneled what energy he had left into it. The stone began to glow, pain kicking up around it in displeasure of being forced into service again. Quickly stepping upon his journal, Yeosang lifted both of his arms at once, a wall of water formulating around his body. He pushed it out, sweeping everyone that wasn’t a fellow Seeker into its hold and subsequently destroying every piece of electrical equipment on the ground floor. Yeosang pushed his adversaries as hard as he’d allow himself into the far walls, stumbling as it all fizzled out in a grand show of light. Youngjo stumbled out, helping him sink back to the ground.

“I’m alright, I’m fine,” he assured. “Let’s go.”

Mia screamed her displeasure, hands slamming against the metal floor. “I tried to be rational with you! I tried to make this work in your favor!” She yelled again, using the handrail to pull herself back onto her feet. “Now, Hongjoong! Do it now!”

“Oh my god,” he breathed.

“Holy shit,” Youngjo said at the same time.

Yeosang whipped to Mingi, Wooyoung, and San. “Don’t look him in the eye!” He instructed. “No matter what you do, don’t look him in the eye!”

From the shadows obscuring the second floor platform, a person emerged. Arms crossed, hair dark, with a smirk devoid of feeling. It was Hongjoong’s body, yes, but the person occupying it was far from the warm man Seonghwa had so lovingly described. 

“Entity Possession,” his companion gasped.

A long forgotten power, forbidden in the Orrery because of the very being controlling Hongjoong’s body. Dangerous and unforgiving, allowing the Seeker total control over every little thing a creature did. Animal or person didn’t matter, nor did the will of their mind, and now Yeosang fully understood why the stone in Hongjoong’s wrist had felt so unnatural.

“Nox,” Yeosang greeted evenly. “I thought you were dead.”

“You thought many things, dear friend,” they laughed. “That I was dead, that you had, ah, what did you say? ‘Gotten rid of me?’ Such fun times.” Their laugh permeated the room. “Oh, and it’s Hongjoong now. If you get a cool name change, so should I.”

“Kill the other one!” Mia demanded. “Now!”

“With pleasure,” Hongjoong replied. “Hey Hwa, you good over there?” 

Seonghwa, who had been a little preoccupied with helping the people around him, had missed the conversation entirely. “Joong! What are you doing out of bed?”

“Oh you know, just this,” he said, darkness gathering around Hongjoong’s body. Yeosang tried to call out to Seonghwa, to try and get him to look away, but it was already too late. Hongjoong’s body fell to the floor, slumping against the ground. Seonghwa stumbled in turn, clasping his head as he struggled through an internal battle. Nox won though, because Nox  _ always _ won; they had not been the Master of Possession for nothing. 

Seonghwa looked to him, his eyes completely black and devoid of recognition. 

Yeosang grit his teeth and nudged Youngjo gently. “Go to the others. This is something only I can do right now.”

“But Yeos—”

“Listen to me for once, Youngjo. Please.” Youngjo wanted to protest further but he conceded, stumbling back to the others. With Yeosang positioned between them, he dropped into an offensive stance and met Seonghwa’s smirk head on. Luckily, with Nox now firmly settled in Hongjoong as a permanent host, they couldn’t hijack his own body while controlling Seonghwa’s. 

“It feels nice to be in such a formidable body,” Seonghwa said. The voice was the same but Yeosang could still hear the nuances of Nox within it. “Do you know how many years I spent trapped in there? How long I battled with Kim Hongjoong’s mind?” Seonghwa bared his teeth angrily. “They killed me here, Sang. Well, not literally, since you promised to do that for yourself, but mentally.” He stepped closer, Yeosang watching him carefully. “Broke me down with their waves of torture until I finally agreed to their stupidly absurd plan. I mean, what else could I do? Refuse? Ha!”

“You were a good Seeker once, Nox.”

Seonghwa lunged at him then, Yeosang dodging just out of his grasp. “So I plucked out my stone and shoved it into that fool’s skin. I watched as he cried and cried, wanting the pain to end, as I funneled endless energy into him. I succeeded where no one else had before me!” He laughed maniacally. “A full Possession, turning Hongjoong’s body into my own! And once I’m finished with you, once the Door is open again, I’m gonna permanently seal the deal by going home, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”

Yeosang dodged him again, sweeping his leg out to try and knock Seonghwa’s feet out from under him. The attempt failed, Seonghwa instead throwing a punch in his direction. His fist glided along the side of Yeosang’s head. Even if he refused to hit Seonghwa, he knew Nox would afford him no such luxuries. He avoided every punch, every jab, the two of them dancing around each other with no end in sight. Yeosang could feel himself weakening, however, the overuse of his stone taking its toll on him. He could feel it, Nox could see it, and it would only be a matter of time before he lost.

Stumbling back, Yeosang had a moment of clarity, and he let his guard down to locate Youngjo. Seonghwa’s fist connected with his stomach, Yeosang falling into his chest and coughing into his shoulder. His arm flopped upon the other side of Seonghwa’s body and he pointed up to where Hongjoong’s form was still slumped over. A light turned on in Youngjo’s head and the other Seeker jumped into action.

Meanwhile, Yeosang shoved his foot between Seonghwa’s ankles and gave it a quick sweep. It wasn’t enough to knock him over but it was enough to shake his balance, allowing Yeosang to shove him back and stumble out of arm's reach. He stood there, staring Seonghwa down as he wheezed to catch his breath. 

“The magnificent Sang, reduced to a frail husk! How’s that Stone of Wisdom treating you?” Seonghwa teased. “Clearly not as well considering you still thought it was smart to waltz on in here!” He rushed at him again, Yeosang reacting too slowly to escape the blow to his chest. 

The Seeker stumbled back, falling onto one knee. Seonghwa kicked him over, Yeosang gasping for air. He rolled onto his side, coughing up a few drops of blood. A foot slammed into his ankle, making him cry out in pain, and Seonghwa put a measured amount of weight upon it. 

“Oh how I wish you weren’t required to be alive,” Seonghwa tsk’d. “Otherwise I’d spend my sweet time with you. Good thing you don’t need to walk to open the Door.” He lifted his foot, winding up to slam it back down, before Seonghwa suddenly collapsed into the floor. The man gasped, eyes wild, and Yeosang lifted his head.

Youngjo was upon the platform, pulling at Hongjoong’s stone. The moment Nox realized this, the color returned to Seonghwa’s eyes and the energy around him retreated. 

“Youngjo, move!” Yeosang shouted, but it was too late. 

Nox erupted back into Hongjoong’s body, lashing out with enough force to send Youngjo flying through the openings in the railing bars. He fell back to the first floor, landing with a sickening thud upon one of the desks. His body rolled off onto the floor, still. Wooyooung and San rushed to his side, trying to get his attention, and Yeosang weakly began to pull himself towards his injured friend.

A foot in the center of his back stopped him, however, and it took all of Yeosang’s strength not to scream in frustration. “I’m not finished with you yet,” came Mia’s voice. The sound of a gun cocking didn’t even phase him. “Open it now or I’ll kill every single one of your little friends.”

“Alright,” he breathed. “Enough. I’ll open it.”

“No nonsense this time either,” Mia demanded. “Now get up and do it.”

Yeosang pressed his hands flat into the floor, head hanging as he caught his breath. He pushed his knees up and his frame trembled with the aftermath of their fight. His insides ached but he couldn’t allow that to stop him, not with their lives on the line. Using the nearby railing, he finally managed to stand. 

Seonghwa stared up at him, dazed and confused. He reached out and gently caught Yeosang’s wrist, the realization of what was going to happen to him finally settling in. “Yeosan—”

“Now is not the time to make amends for what you have done,” he answered softly.

“Then just … let me say I’m sorry,” Seonghwa pleaded. “So, so sorry for not listening to you.”

Yeosang pulled his arm away, averting his gaze. “You were listening to orders, just as I am only trying to save my friends.”

“Do you think, had I been born in the past, things would’ve been different?” He whispered. “That this … would’ve worked between us?”

Yeosang adjusted his stance, inhaling quietly, and shook his head. “I don’t know.” The Seeker lifted his wrist, pointing it towards the top of the table; it was the only clear area left in the room. “That night, when you said you loved me … I never got to answer you.”

“It never required an answer.” His voice was filled with remorse. 

“It does.” Light gathered in his stone, Yeosang glancing from Seonghwa’s face, to Youngjo’s body, to Mingi, to San, to Wooyoung, even Hongjoong. “You’re the first person who made me feel alive again in thousands of years. The first to make me laugh, to make me want to experience the good things here again, over and over as long as I was with you.” The last remaining dregs of energy came next, pulled from Yeosang’s very core. “And I love you, Park Seonghwa.”

The room flooded with brilliant light, Seonghwa’s answer being swallowed by the sheer silence in Yeosang’s ears. An outline began to draw itself into existence above the table, starting from both sides and shooting up in a straight line. They suddenly curved in towards the top, forming a peak. From there, a circle drew itself at the highest point, with four more joining it in evenly spaced areas around the outside each. His stone pulled from his wrist, floating to the center of the newly drawn Door. Yeosang winced as pain began to gather in his body, hot and burning, but he pushed through it. The stone wobbled, clearly disliking what was being done, before it shattered in five separate pieces. 

He screamed. At least, he assumed he did, forcing the stones to fly into their respective places. His nose began to bleed, arms and legs aching as his very soul began to burn. The stones slotted into place, blue light beginning to fill the outline of white. Wind kicked up around them, ruffling their clothes as Yeosang forced the last bit of essence he had into opening the Door for the final time. 

The moment the outline finished filling, it erupted into a gust of wind. Yeosang was the only one sent flying, his body colliding painfully with the floor and rolling back until he was against the wall. He watched weakly as a crack appeared down the center, runes drawing into existence. At the center, where his stone had once stood, formed a ball of light. It burst into a key moments later, floating down to the lock. 

Someone joined him there.  _ Seonghwa …? _ He didn’t know, his ears ringing as he watched the Door swing open. Hongjoong dropped down next to it, the entire room watching in awe as the Door was revealed to human souls for the first time. Yeosang reached towards it, his wrist empty and cold as his life force began to fade; the Orrery had begun to claim him for the cycle. 

“Home,” he whispered. Mia appeared to be briefing Hongjoong on how to proceed but Yeosang could not hear them. All he could focus on was the cloudless blue sky and the flowers waving in the wind, his smile gentle. He missed home. He missed running through the field, dancing through the river, training in the ruins … How he longed to see home again. 

Youngjo’s face came into view, Yeosang glancing at him through blurry eyes. His friend cupped his face, lips moving as he tried to speak to him, but he couldn’t hear it. He felt … at peace despite the situation being anything but. A tear rolled down his cheek, Yeosang smiling gently, even as Youngjo’s body was wracked with sobs. His body went lax, both Youngjo and Seonghwa yelling his name.

_ Why was everyone backing away from it …? _

Vision swimming, Yeosang watched as the Door began to glow. Energy hummed through the floor, brushing against his body warmly. Streaks of light suddenly shot from within the opening, flying wildly around the room until they seemingly located their goal—him. They fluttered around, encapsulating Yeosang’s body in light and lifting him from the floor. The light pulled him towards the center of the room, swirling around him in a warm protective layer. A tiny ball of red light appeared in front of him, beginning to circle around his body. It was followed by orange, then yellow, then more, until every stone color Seekers could bear were present around him. Yeosang watched cautiously, the colors moving closer until they began to circle around the empty space in his wrist. 

All at once they converged upon it. 

Yeosang recoiled, expecting pain, but instead there was only warmth. It consumed him from the inside, repairing the damage done to him both physically and upon his soul. He could feel his strength returning, the ringing voices from before quieting down. Everything felt so peaceful, so calm, and he watched as a tiny ball of darkness floated from between his parted lips. It hovered in front of him, proof of a poison that had been long dormant inside his body, before it was consumed by the light. A burst of sparks in his peripherals caught his attention and Yeosang gasped as he lifted his wrist.

His stone was back, shining with the strength of a rainbow.

The outline of a person appeared on his right, then his left, then in front of him, Yeosang’s head whipping in each direction. They were faint, barely noticeable, but quickly gained a more tangible form. His heart sank as their faces came into proper view—Hwanwoong, Felix, and Jongho in that order.

“Felix …” He murmured. 

“Save your sorry,” Felix said gently. “It’s alright, I promise.”

“Then … what are you guys doing here?” Yeosang asked instead.

“Returning your powers,” Hwanwoong replied, ruffling his hair. “Making you whole again, Sang.”

Yeosang shook his head. “Sang is go—”

“Sang is you,” Jongho interrupted. “You will always be Sang no matter what lifetime you live.”

He lifted a hand, gently taking Felix’s outstretched one. Felix helped him back onto his feet, Yeosang feeling more alive than he had in years. “How are all of you here …? I thought I sealed the Orrery.”

“You did,” Felix replied. “All of us are asleep, waiting for you to return, but our souls still sought you out; you needed us.”

“All of you needed me … and I wasn’t there,” he murmured.

Hwanwoong punched his shoulder gently. “We’ll properly scold you later. For now, we need to release you back to the human world.”

“You need to fix what has been done,” the youngest of them all explained. Jongho looked older, more mature, but his heart was still pure. 

“Fix this, restart the cycle, and come home—all of you,” said Felix, gently cupping his face. “You cannot help what you did, nor who you fell in love with, Sang. Just … come home.”

“We’ve missed you,” Hwanwoong murmured.

“All of us,” Jongho added.

Yeosang looked between their faces, his heart fluttering. Reopening the Door had freed not only their souls but his power as well. This was truly the end … and Yeosang knew exactly what he needed to do. Steeling his nerves, he nodded. “I know what I need to do.”

The moment the words left his mouth, the ball of light surrounding him exploding outwards. He landed upon the ground in front of the Door with a feather-light touch of wind, a trick Felix had taught him years ago. Time came rushing back to the room, Mia noticing him immediately. Felix, Hwanwoong, and Jongho’s spirits flanked his side, the Stars lifting their arms as the guards around the room were given the order to kill. 

It plunged into chaos, Hongjoong flying towards him. Yeosang was faster though, grasping Hongjoong’s wrist and yanking him close. He looked into those darkened eyes defiantly, knowing Nox was screaming his frustrations. In his weakened state, the castaway Seeker would’ve been able to control him without issue. Not anymore, not with the power of Sang begging to be unleashed. But his goal was not to kill, at least not Hongjoong. Yeosang’s hand clapped over the corrupted stone in his wrist, the man screeching as Nox realized what he was about to do. Fire erupted from his palm, targeted at the stone, and Yeosang yanked it free with little resistance.

Hongjoong squirmed and pulled against his grasp, shouting obscenities, but Nox knew it was over. Yeosang crushed the brittle stone in his hand and allowed the dust to fall to the ground. The scientist slumped against him, light green consuming his body and pulling the curse of Nox free from him completely. 

Yunho came rushing over, the sound of gunfire and angry shouts echoing in the background. Yeosang handed Hongjoong over without fuss. “The real cause of his problem is gone now; he should awaken soon,” Yeosang hastily explained. He then stood, getting ready to jump back into the fray, before a tug at his pants stopped him.

“Sang …  _ Yeosang _ …” Yunho began. “Thank you, and … I’m so sorry for all of this.”

He smiled gently. “You did what you could to save the person you loved; I’ve been there.”

Then he slipped into the chaos, most of the guards having been dealt with already. Yeosang joined Hwanwoong’s spirit and kicked one of the guards down, preventing him from taking a swing at Mingi’s back. Hwanwoong pressed against him, Yeosang taking a quick survey of the crowd.

“How is he of fire?” Yeosang asked quickly. “I feared the worst when I first saw him.”

Hwanwoong kicked the gun away from the guard, incinerating it with his flames. “I split my soul in two and sent half of it here to find you. I was the first to achieve stasis because of it,” the Master of Fire explained. 

Across the room, Mingi’s entire body grew bright with flames. He sent a funnel of it towards a guard about to fire at Youngjo, burning the gun into nothing with controlled ease.

Hwanwoong whistled appreciatively. “Guess it chose a good one, eh? Can’t wait to meet him in person!” The last word was accentuated by Hwanwoong dashing towards one of the doors, hoping to cork the influx of security guards. 

Yeosang joined Felix next, helping him make quick work of the guards closing in on San. They combined Felix’s wind with Yeosang’s ice, creating a frigid whirlwind that froze several of them upon immediate contact. 

“Haven’t fought like this since that one war!” Felix said, giving him a playful nudge; he was gone again before Yeosang could properly converse with him.

Across the room, Jongho had managed to push the extra personnel hoping to enter back. His wall of poison flowed up and down in the doorway, Jongho challenging them to step through. One of the guards fired a bullet to test but the corrosive poison melted it away instantaneously.

Yeosang took another look around the room, but all of the guards had already been subdued. None killed of course; Seekers didn’t take lives, even if they deserved to. All that left was—

A gunshot rang out through the room, Yeosang reacted a split second too late. His teeth clenched in pain as the bullet made contact with his leg, tearing through flesh. It was just a graze, thank goodness, but that didn’t mean he enjoyed it. 

_ Mia. _

She was standing near the door, hair messy, dress torn, and face twisted into a mask of anger. In her arms was a gun pointed directly at him. “My family threw their lives away for this!” She screeched. “I’m going in and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”

“You can’t enter that place without consent,” he said after a moment. “You’ll be consumed by power you don’t even understand; you’d never make the journey there, let alone back again.” 

“You can’t  _ lie _ to me!” Mia shrieked. “Why do you get to be immortal? Why do we have to die while you have a way to save everyone? How is that fair!?”

Yeosang began to move towards her, Mia raising the gun higher; it was shaking. He kept his palms up. In the world of humans, it meant you were unarmed; in the world of Seekers, it was how you attacked. It appeared Mia had never learned that. “I’m sorry your family died searching for this. I’m sorry your entire life went into it, I truly am. But I’m not lying to you, Mia. The Door and the world beyond are not meant for humans.”

“Shut up!” She demanded, firing a warning shot towards him; it missed. “You can’t convince me it’s fake. I’ve read the book! I know the truth!”

“The book is a swathe of history written by me,” Yeosang said, taking another step. “I’ve been the leader of the Seekers for thousands of years, Mia, and I know better than anyone that humans cannot survive without the consent of a Seeker.”

Mia stared him down for a moment, her anger seemingly growing dormant, before it picked right back up. “Then you give me consent or I’ll kill one of you! I demand it!”

Yeosang shook his head. “I can’t allow that. The lives of my Seekers are not worth such a rotten soul. Even the crystals would not accept your energy.”

This infuriated her, Mia jerking the gun up. A gunshot resounded in the room but it was not from Mia. Instead, she jerked back, dropping the gun; it clattered to the floor. She stumbled, gripping her chest, and affixed him with wide, terrified eyes. Yeosang swallowed as Seonghwa stepped around the Door, watching as she collapsed to the ground with a screech of pain.

“Why, Seonghwa!” Mia cried, writhing on the ground.

“I won’t let you hurt them anymore,” he whispered. “Not even an hour ago, I was ready to throw their lives away for Hongjoong’s safety, but seeing them here … They’re people, just like us.” Their eyes met, Yeosang noting the new resolve burning within. “And I can’t allow you to exchange one of their lives so you can keep living yours.”

Mia began to yell incoherently, Yeosang catching only pieces like ‘lose your job,’ ‘go to prison,’ and other upsetting things, but Seonghwa had quit listening. He tossed the gun to the side, offering his hands. And, after a moment, Mia fell still against the floor.

“You’re free to go,” Seonghwa said after a moment. “I won’t let anyone stop you.”

Yeosang nodded but did not offer a thank you.

Youngjo appeared next to him a moment later and they shared a glance. “We have to go now, Yeosang, while the confusion is still fresh.”

Yeosang agreed softly and looked to Mingi, San, and Wooyoung. He motioned for them to join them. “The Door will not consume you,” he explained, “for you are Seekers in every right. Just step through it and you will arrive at your new home.”

“I-I’m scared,” San admitted.

“The first crossing is the scariest,” Youngjo said. “I almost peed the first time I went through. Normally I’d say take your time but … I have a feeling we’re gonna need to vacate.”

Yeosang gave each of them a gentle push, including Youngjo. “Go. I’ll join you in a moment. I … I need to say goodbye.”

Youngjo dipped his head and led the ragtag group of Seekers towards the Door. Mingi went first, stepping through the pristine image and vanishing. Wooyoung followed, his shoulders determined and head held high, being sucked into a realm he had never seen before, followed by San’s more hesitant steps. Youngjo gripped the Door’s edge, looking back at him one last time, before he finally returned home.

Yeosang turned his back to Seonghwa, picking his way through the people lying on the ground. He located his journal amid the fray and picked it up, staring down at the leather. Everything that had happened was because of that book. The prisoners, the unnecessary deaths, the pain, the sadness; it was all his fault. Grip tightening upon it, Yeosang turned and began his walk. He stopped when he reached Seonghwa, pausing to look at him with shaky breath.

“Is this … goodbye then?” Seonghwa asked softly.

“For now,” Yeosang replied, taking one of the man’s hands in his own.

“I know I can’t come with you,” he said, “but will you ever come back?”

Yeosang’s heart squeezed. “Of course,” the Seeker lied, “I’ll try to visit all the time.”

“I meant it that night, Yeosang. I do love you, and I’m so damn sorry I lost sight of that.”

“... Yeah, me too,” he murmured. “But I’ll tell you the same thing I told Yunho. You were trying to save your friend, just as I did here; I won’t blame you for your actions, but it will take me awhile to forgive you.” Yeosang pressed his forehead into Seonghwa’s chest, feeling his heart pounding. “I’ll miss you as much as I love you.”

Seonghwa wrapped his arms around him, giving him one final hug. “I hope that one day you’ll forgive me for what I’ve done. I’ll miss you too, Yeosang.”

After a moment, Yeosang stepped away. Seonghwa held onto his hand a moment longer, giving him a soft squeeze, before Yeosang broke contact. He looked at Seonghwa’s face, then Yunho’s, then Hongjoong’s, the latter awake; his eyes were knowing, expression solemn. 

“You were one of the greatest things I’ve ever had, and I’m so sorry things came to this,” he said, voice trembling. Yeosang lifted his hand, wrist beginning to glow orange. His aura flared, reaching his eyes, before consuming him in a magnificent beacon of light. “Maybe, in another life, things will be different. Goodbye Seonghwa.” The light exploded into the room, flooding every corner, and Yeosang stepped back into the Door with his journal grasped tightly in his fingers. A tear rolled down his cheek, warm light enveloping his body, and the laboratory faded away.

By the time the Door closed behind him, the existence of Seekers and the true purpose of Empyrean Industries would no longer exist, just as Park Seonghwa would never remember the bartender known as Yeosang.

—————— xxx —————

“Hurry _up_ , Seonghwa! We’re gonna miss the movie!” Hongjoong yelled.

Seonghwa snapped his phone shut with a groan, catching up to Yunho and Hongjoong’s quick steps. “We still have thirty minutes before it starts.”

“Five minutes to get there, five minutes for tickets, five minutes for snac—”

“Okay, okay, I get it Yunho!” He laughed, giving the man a gentle shove. 

Hongjoong knocked into his other side. “Who were you texting anyway?”

“No one,” Seonghwa responded immediately. “I just … can’t shake this feeling.”

“Oh yeah?” Yunho asked. “Thinking the cute guy from the tech department might call you?”

Seonghwa shook his head, making a face. “Not that! Just … it feels like something’s missing.”

“I’ll tell you what’s missing; your damn love life! You gotta live a little!” Hongjoong teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied. 

They continued their walk for another minute or two before a soft tap at his shoulder caught his attention. Seonghwa’s steps came to a halt, the man throwing a glance behind him. 

“Can I help you?” He asked.

“Um, sorry to bother, but I think you dropped this …?” The stranger said.

Seonghwa hesitated, turning around to see the item in question, and his heart fluttered. The stranger was a little shorter, face angular. His first thought was he has a cute nose, hair dark brown with eyes to match, a black beanie looking dangerously close to falling off his head. He was … one of the cutest guys Seonghwa had ever seen. In his hand was Seonghwa’s wallet.

“Oh, yeah, that’s mine,” he said, holding out his hand. “Thank you for returning it.”

The stranger chuckled, setting it inside his palm. “Just be careful next time; there aren’t many good people left in the world.”

Seonghwa shoved it back into his pocket and cleared his throat. “Yeah, for sure.” He glanced at Yunho and Hongjoong, the duo standing a few paces away; they motioned towards him but not to hurry up for the movie. His attention turned back to the stranger. “Um, you wouldn’t mind letting me buy you, say, lunch as a thank you …?” He said, scratching his head awkwardly. 

“Yeosang,” he replied with a soft smile. “I’d like that very much, Seonghwa.”

“G-great! Give me a moment and I’ll let my friends know, okay?” He asked, turning towards them. 

“Of course. I’ll be right here,” Yeosang answered.

Seonghwa nodded and went to let Hongjoong and Yunho know what was going on. His head tilted in puzzlement as he drew close to them, realizing he hadn’t actually introduced himself to Yeosang.  _ He had your wallet, dumbass _ , he thought, stopping in front of them. His feet came to a halt, Seonghwa pausing to look back at the man standing behind him. Their eyes met, a spark of familiarity rushing through him, before it was gone again.

And, just for just a moment, Seonghwa swore he saw the glint of a gemstone on Yeosang’s wrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaaand that's the end! idk what this is or why I wrote it but the important part, to me, is that I finished it !!
> 
> find me on twt [@moonswallowed](https://twitter.com/moonswallowed) (18+ pls) for more content!
> 
> thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed !!


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